


Baser Instincts

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Series: Baser Instincts [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Homelessness, M/M, Modern, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:55:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22829803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Prompto's an easy person to make disappear hiding behind a gas station dumpster but at least he can always rely on the kindness of strangers.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Baser Instincts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678522
Comments: 115
Kudos: 355





	1. Chapter 1

Prompto is painfully aware he’s the easiest person in the world to disappear. Since he ran away he’s been sleeping under bridges with his backpack and his hoodie. He wanted to stay clean when he left that house but in the encroaching cold cigarettes help him dissuade his aching hunger pains.

Tonight he’s at a gas station, coiled up around the back near the dumpster. Its peaceful here and if Tammy is working she sometimes buys him something small to eat. He tries not abuse her kindness. She’s making minimum wage after all. Sure, the ambience and the smell isn’t great but Prompto’s learnt not to be picky these past few months. He’s small and older guys usually crowd him out of warmer spaces. Honestly he’s considered turning tricks but pimps are awful dudes and he doesn’t really want to die at twenty-two all dried up and full of cocaine. 

Prompto assumes the footsteps making their way around the back belong to an employee so he’s surprised when he sees a boy he doesn’t recognise.

They regard each other for a second, both seemingly surprised, sizing each other up.

The kid is Prompto’s age probably. Like Prompto he’s baby faced but his big sparkly eyes sit on ultra sharp cheekbones. Prompto’s not sure if he’d describe the face as elfin or dangerous. He read that dirty book, _Lolita_ , once and this guy is sort of what he pictured for nymphs or whatever they were called. There’s something… Prompto’s not sure how to describe it. It’s like seeing a photoshopped picture in the real world. Its kind of scary uncanny valley territory the longer he stares.

“Aren’t you cold?” The boy asks. He’s got this big navy jacket with a plush wool lined hood. It looks amazing. 

“Little,” Prompto admits, gathering his hoodie closer around himself.

“That won’t help,” the boy decides, unbuttoning his jacket and peeling out of it.

Prompto wants to fumble, some part of him wants to reject such kindness, but the rest of him screams not to get picky now. He could get pneumonia out here. There is too some minuscule, old, part of Prompto that points out to him how pale the boy’s arms are.

“Here,” the boy thrusts out his jacket, “we look about the same size.”

Except this boy is well fed and well cared for. That much is evident. Still Prompto hurries through a sloppy apology and snatching the jacket slips into it gratefully. Its so warm. Oddly he can’t feel the other boy’s residual body heat but he doesn’t care if the coat feels like it came off a mannequin. It’s so comfy.

The boy sits besides him on the concrete foundation peaking out from under the gas station.

“I’m Noctis,” he greets.

“Prompto,” he answers, warming his hands in the thick pockets of the jacket.

“You look hungry, Prompto.” Noctis discerns. He keeps doing that. Taking Prompto in, up and down, like he’s some kind of seasonal display at a local park.

“Little bit,” Prompto repeats, hoping he’ll get lucky a second time.

“I’m starving,” Noctis admits. “Make you a deal; come sit in my car with me and we can both eat?”

“I shouldn’t man…” Prompto whispers. “I appreciate the coat but—"

“Car has heating,” Noctis tempts. “It’s just around the front in the car park. I won’t even sit in the driver’s seat.”

Prompto wavers, stomach rumbling deep behind his bones. God, he’s so hungry.

“What food you got…?” He hesitates, hoping that’ll make saying no easier.

“You can pick,” Noctis whips out his phone, flashing a delivery app. “I’ll pay.”

Prompto bites his lip.

“O-okay,” he surrenders.

Noctis helps him up from his coiled crouch behind the dumpster and Prompto carries his dirty backpack around the gas station. Noctis leads them to the backseat of a slick black convertible and frankly it looks more expensive than the entire apartment Prompto ran away from.

When they’re behind the tinted windows, knee to knee, Noctis leans across the centre console to turn the heating up. He slumps back a second later, taking a deep breath. Prompto wants to hurry him, order the food, but he knows not to push his luck. Noctis is being incredibly generous and if he doesn’t have bad intentions he might get cold feet if he thinks Prompto’s up to something.

Prompto rues that at least Noctis is small. Even if Noctis is up to something he could take another teenager, right? Noctis doesn’t look like he’s got a gun. Besides, they’re not leaving the gas station. Prompto can leave anytime. He’s going to be okay he keeps telling himself.

“Can I be honest Prompto?” Noctis asks, bringing up his delivery app and thrusting his phone into Prompto’s cold fingers.

Prompto grunts.

“I’m not really feeling pizza,” Noctis admits. “I’m really craving something else.”

“I don’t do tricks,” Prompto murmurs firm but quiet, pausing in his scrolling.

“Huh?” Noctis blinks. “What are tricks?”

Prompto hesitates.

“Like… sex things?” Prompto finds himself explaining.

“Oh!” Noctis seems to comprehend. “No, I don’t want that. No thanks. You watch old movies Prompto?”

“I mean…” Prompto feels very confused. “Yeah, they’re cool.”

“Right, so you’ve heard about vampires then?” Noctis prods.

Prompto pauses again, glancing over Noctis. Is this kid crazy?

“Dude if this is some weird organ trafficking thing—” Prompto starts to hold his hand up, ready to back out, when Noctis flashes him a smile with two of the biggest, sharpest, canines Prompto’s every seen.

Prompto freezes, not sure if he’s utterly horrified or totally proud of himself for being suspicious this guy was weird. He swallows, blinking slow, and Noctis continues;

“I wasn’t going to kill you or nothing,” he promises, “I’d just really like something to tide me over. We’ve been driving for _hours_ …”

“So…” Prompto fumbles for words. “So, like, if I let you drink my blood you’ll buy me dinner?”

“Yeah!” Noctis chirps. “Dinner for dinner, fair trade, right?”

“I mean…” Prompto laughs weakly. “I’ve heard worse deals…”

“Please?” Noctis presses gently.

Maybe it’s just because it’s so surreal or maybe Prompto’s literally in shock but Noctis seems like a very polite vampire? Prompto considers for a moment. He’s _starving_. The car is warm and Noctis hasn’t tricked him or anything. Vampires are meant to be strong, right? So if Noctis wanted to kill him he probably could’ve just tackled him and left his body behind the dumpster all drained out.

“I—Y-yeah, okay.” Prompto decides hesitantly.

“Thanks,” Noctis shuffles closer across the seat.

“Is it…?” Prompto pauses and Noctis tilts his head curiously. “Do you need my neck or…?”

“I can do your wrist if that’s easier?” Noctis offers.

“I mean…” Prompto frowns. “I might get kind of queasy if I can see it. Maybe neck?”

“Sure,” Noctis shifts right up against him, helping him peel back the coat and hoodie a little. Noctis doesn’t make him take them off he just gets under them, right up in Prompto’s arms, and burying his face in Prompto’s neck urges; “just breathe.”

Prompto tries to take a deep breath but he’s honestly a little scared.

There’s a split second where he thinks Noctis is going to say something else but—

Prompto yelps, startled by the sharp, surprisingly quick, sting of Noctis’ teeth puncturing his neck. His heart thunders, blood rushing to his ears, and he fumbles for something to grab. Noctis hooks one arm secure around his middle and cups the opposing side of his jaw in his hand while he removes his teeth and starts to suck. Prompto isn’t aware of much for a second. It’s hyper intense. All he can hear is his heartbeat, his rattling rabbit breathing, and Noctis swallowing.

It’s…. It’s weirdly hypnotic. Kind of nice. Prompto starts to feel a little heady, like he’s tipsy, and its warm, gooey, good feeling…

With practised grace Noctis eases back, licking a line up Prompto’s neck, and then all the bubbling blood seems to stop right away. Prompto suddenly remembers how to take a deep breath, air rushing back in, and oomphs delicately as Noctis slumps against him.

“Y-you okay…?” Prompto finds himself asking the vampire who just fucking drank his blood.

“Hmm, dreamy…” Noctis purrs happily, nuzzling his clavicle. “You?”

“Yeah,” Prompto feels a touch light-headed and buzzed with adrenaline but nothing hurts and he doesn’t want to throw up.

“Thank you,” Noctis sighs, “can I stay here for a second?”

“Um, sure,” Prompto permits. “Do you mind if I order dinner?”

“No, food will be good for you,” Noctis permits, twisting back to grab his phone and handing it to Prompto before nuzzling back down.

Prompto rests back against the seat. Noctis feels way warmer now. He’s just a warm weight against his chest, nice and languid, and Prompto finds himself throwing one arm around the creature while he orders with his other hand. Large pizza, large drink. He can almost taste the pepperoni.

Honestly this is way better than turning tricks for some sleazy old john.

“I should go meet the delivery guy,” Prompto murmurs.

“No, stay,” Noctis entreats gently. “The guys will get it and bring it to you. It’s no trouble and the car’s warm.”

The car is warm…

“Okay,” Prompto slackens, holding Noctis lazily. He feels a little dreamy himself actually. “What’s that feel like anyway?”

“It’s like getting high, so high,” Noctis sighs. “We can eat human food but it doesn’t sate us, not like blood. We need blood.”

“Really? No shit.” Prompto blinks.

“Hmm, you’re taking this remarkably well.” Noctis praises. “Almost no one ever wants to let me trade.”

“Well you drive a hard bargain,” Prompto laughs. “Do you do this a lot?”

“Most people I feed off these days don’t even know I’ve fed off them.” Noctis admits. “But sometimes you want someone to be really present in the moment, ya know?”

“Oh totally,” Prompto imagines he sort of understands anyway. “You out here all alone?”

“No, I have my coven with me.” Noctis snuggles down. “It’s just the three of us.”

“You live in Oregon?”

“We’re going to Washington,” Noctis explains. “We have a summer home up near the border.”

“That’s cool,” Prompto murmurs. “I got to admit I was expecting more… I don’t know, savagery and gore? I mean the movies—”

“Movies are movies,” Noctis dismisses, “they’re okay but do you think aliens would find our sci-fi particularly insightful?”

“Probably not,” Prompto laughs. “Have you been a vampire long?”

“A while,” Noctis replies vaguely. “You’re so warm…”

“It’s just the car,” Prompto insists. “Have—”

Someone knocks curtly on the window.

Prompto startles, hesitating, but Noctis leans over and open the door with a little thump-click.

“Delivery,” a tall, handsome, man with glasses greets with a pizza box.

Noctis sits back, untangling out of Prompto’s arms, and Prompto fumbles to accept the box and the drink. Then, as if this happens every day, the super model handsome man closes the door gently after himself and leaves Prompto back in the privacy of the car with Noctis and his food.

“Go on, eat.” Noctis urges. “It’ll get cold.”

“R-right,” Prompto puts his drink in the holder in the centre console and opens the box. He moans, picking up a slice of piping hot pizza. The cheese melts strings between the slices and it’s the best thing Prompto’s eaten in literal weeks.

“Heh, you sound like you’re going to bust a nut.” Noctis laughs warmly.

“It’s _so good_ ,” Prompto moans deeply, trying to chew. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” Noctis promises, slouched against the seat. “Take your time, if you eat too fast you’ll make yourself sick.”

“You don’t have anywhere to be?” Prompto checks.

“No, we’re cruising up the coast really casually.” Noctis assures. “There’s no rush.”

“What’s Washington like?” Prompto asks. “I’ve never been.”

“Hmm, grey.” Noctis tries to illustrate with a vague gesture. “You always lived in Oregon?”

“I come from California,” Prompto informs. “But I hitched my way up here when I left my parent’s place.”

“Run away?” Noctis supposes.

“Yeah,” Prompto nods. “They were assholes.”

“That’s awful,” Noctis murmurs. “Did they hurt you?”

“Yeah,” Prompto grunts distantly. “They were addicts and drunks and they both fought like fucking scorpions. I—Heh, I bet you’ve heard this story a lot?”

“It’s kind of sad how common it is, for everyone,” Noctis admits. “Even some vampires are nastier than others. I’ve known some covens that were torrid, cruel, families. Imagine being stuck with your parents for a hundred years.”

“Ugh, I’d rather not.” Prompto shudders. “So, hey, if you’re real are other things?”

“Yeah, loads of things.” Noctis nods.

“That’s so cool,” Prompto works through another piece of pizza, sipping his soda.

“Prompto,” Noctis hesitates, “would you be interested in making another deal?”

“What kind of deal?” He wonders.

“Well…” the vampire wavers. “You’re homeless, right?”

“Yeah,” Prompto admits sombrely.

“Come to Washington with me.” Noctis offers. “You can live with us. Free food, free bed, free everything. You just have to let me feed every few days. Is that…?”

Prompto blinks.

“You barely know me dude,” he wavers.

“Maybe, but you get a sense of people when you’re my age,” Noctis assures. “You’ve got such good instincts already. You’re comfortable. I feel like I’ve been needing someone just like you for ages.” 

“I mean…” Prompto considers it, honestly considers it. “You’d put me up, whole deal, and I just have to do that every couple of days?”

“Yeah,” the vampire nods.

“What about your coven?” Prompto presses.

“You’d be mine,” Noctis assures, “and I don’t share lightly.”

“So they wouldn’t expect…?”

“No, not at all,” Noctis promises. “And if you don’t like it you can leave whenever you want. You have my word.”

“What if I told people about you?”

“You’re a homeless kid from Oregon,” Noctis snorts, “who’s going to believe you?”

Prompto flushes weakly.

“Not to insult you, Prompto,” Noctis backtracks quickly at his expression. “But people have refused to believe much more reasonable things from much more prestigious sources. I think you’re an honest person but if you don’t the evening news you were roomie to some vampires I don’t think anyone would buy it, ya know?”

“I…” Prompto laughs, “yeah, I guess that’s true… so if I left I wouldn’t be a threat to your secret then?”

“No, exactly.” Noctis nods.

“I mean…” Prompto sits back. “I do need somewhere warm to stay….”

“Please?” Noctis presses again with that same hopeful, childish, urgency like he hasn’t got total control. Its kind of endearing that he asks so sincerely when he could just force the point.

Maybe that’s why Prompto’s considering it?

Noctis could force him to do almost anything, right? But Noctis asks for consent. Noctis has already proven tonight that he’s good to his word. He didn’t rip Prompto’s jugular out or anything at all. He’s been polite and friendly. Honestly Prompto could do way worse. Fuck, his _parents_ are way worse than this literal creature of the night.

“Okay,” Prompto decides, “I think I could do that for awhile.”

“Yes!” Noctis cheers.

“Heh, you’ll have to introduce me to the other guys.” Prompto reminds.

“I will, I will,” Noctis promises. “You don’t want to eat anymore?”

“I don’t think I could take another bite,” Prompto laughs mournfully. “It’s delicious but I think my stomach must’ve shrunk or something. I’m _stuffed_.”

“Okay, okay…” Noctis pushes his hair back behind his ears. “Go to the bathroom. I’ll get rid of the pizza. Then we’ll keep driving to Washington, sound good? You’re going to love the house there. It’s so big.”

“Sounds great!” Prompto surrenders the pizza box as they both fumble out of the convertible.

* * *

Prompto’s head is spinning the entire time he uses the gas station bathroom. He’s frantic that Noctis is going to drive off without him. Part of him thinks maybe he’s hallucinating or something and this isn’t actually real. Like, a vampire? A vampire who wants a human roommate? Super weird.

Speaking of super weird Prompto’s neck doesn’t even have a mark. It’s a little tender, sure, and its bruising a little like he got a nasty hickey but its not bleeding or bitten or anything. The skin looks otherwise undisturbed.

When Prompto makes it back to the convertible in Noctis’ jacket he finds the small vampire in a much too big leather jacket with a huge behemoth design on the back. Taking his hand Noctis tugs him forward.

“Prompto this is my coven,” he introduces.

“Hi,” Prompto waves dumbly.

Like Noctis the two older men are eerily hyper attractive. It’s like someone brought a couple of marble statues to life.

“Prom this is Gladiolus, Gladio.” Noctis gestures.

“Hey,” Gladio grunts amicably. He’s a big, broad, bruiser of a man with a huge feathered tattoo running down his arms. Prompto very quickly realises Noctis must be in Gladio’s jacket judging by the proportions. Prompto reaches to shake his hand on instinct and Gladio laughs outright but shakes his cold little fingers eagerly.

“And Prom, this is Ignis.” Noctis directs him right.

“A pleasure,” Ignis’ hand is already waiting when Prompto turns. Ignis is the man with glasses from before. Very handsome, super model sleek, professional. He looks like he belongs in a swimsuit catalogue or a boardroom.

“I hope you guys don’t mind me tagging along,” Prompto fumbles.

“Noctis gets what Noctis wants,” Ignis shrugs good naturedly, as if things like this happen a lot.

“Ain’t that right Princess?” Gladio grins, turning conspiratorially.

“Always!” Noctis beams, smug as a cat with its cream.

“Yes, well,” Ignis snorts. “We should get back on the road and I’m sure Prompto will be much warmer in the car. You have to be mindful of your human’s needs, Noctis.”

“I know!” Noctis rolls his eyes.

“I’m sure but you haven’t had a human for some time,” Ignis shrugs, patient and gentle.

“We’ll figure it out,” the smallest vampire shrugs.

“I’m sure,” Ignis agrees, putting an arm around Prompto’s shoulder. “Prompto why don’t we put you in the front seat. It’s more comfortable if you nod off.”

“Thanks,” Prompto fumbles, letting the vampires ease him into the car while Gladio takes his backpack and stows it in the trunk.

In the car Prompto eases down in his seat, nice and warm. In the backseat Noctis coils up against Gladio letting the bigger creature ruffle his hair and squish him tight. They seem really cute, all of them, in a weird undead creature of darkness kind of way.

“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Prompto admits.

“I imagine not,” Ignis chuckles as they pull out onto the highway. “I suppose most of your vampire knowledge is from movies?”

“Old movies,” Prompto shrugs as if that helps. “But I’m guessing its not a hundred percent accurate? Noctis says you guys eat food and stuff.”

“Most novelists and screen writers don’t have very reliable sources to draw from,” Ignis permits. “If you have any questions over the next few weeks please feel confident to ask. We’ll try and get you up to speed.”

“Thanks,” Prompto slouches comfortably. “Can I just say you’re like… the nicest creatures of darkness I’ve ever met?”

Ignis chuckles. “Most vampires are entangled in politics and tradition. Luckily we’re immune to such things by virtue of our unique position. Makes for casual banter and easy manners; an old world kind of grace, like the Fae folk.”

“So you’re like… special vampires?” Prompto tries to understand.

“Most vampires are split into one of two distinctive clans. Who sires you can effect your entire immortality. The clans have a tense history, they fight over territory, they restrict interrelations…” Ignis explains. “Luckily we technically belong to neither clan so we are free to do as we see fit without much intrinsic pressure.”

“That’s cool,” Prompto chirps. “So they’re, like, vampire bloodlines?”

“Yes, exactly.” Ignis nods.

“Huh, so—”

“Oh my god,” Noctis moans in the backseat, “are we talking politics? _Ugh._ ”

“Prompto was curious.” Ignis defends lazily.

“He’s been here for like five minutes,” Noctis laughs, “don’t burden him with politics already!”

“But, like, how come you guys don’t belong to a clan?” Prompto speaks up.

“I don’t belong to a clan,” Noctis shrugs, “and because I sired Gladio and Ignis they don’t belong to one either.”

“Whoa, wait,” Prompto pivots in his seat. “You made Gladio and Ignis? You’re the _oldest?_ ”

“Indeed,” Ignis hums.

“I look good for my age,” Noctis preens, slumping back against Gladio.

“That’s—” Prompto laughs. “You’re full of surprises. That’s nuts! How old are you?”

“Ignis is five hundred, Gladio’s a tiny bit less, I’m older.” Noctis shrugs absently. 

“You’re more than five hundred years old?” Prompto gapes. “You’re tiny!”

“Noctis age has not obscured his boyish charm,” Ignis chuckles. “He’s maintained his youth somehow. Honestly given we act as guardians, care takers, it’s no surprise you’d assume he’s our fledgling.”

“Princess likes being spoilt,” Gladio explains, “so he makes bigger, nastier, vampires to baby him.”

“It’s a good system!” Noctis defends.

“Being adored suits you, yes,” Ignis pacifies the fluster efficiently.

“Huh…” Prompto sits with the information for a moment, letting it ruminate.

Well, its not what he expected but, then, he didn’t expect to get conscripted by literal vampires either. Food, comfort, warmth… Prompto’s willing to deal with all levels of weirdness for those creature comforts. He’s got his own needs after all.

Prompto falls asleep a few hours into the drive, as they head into the grey of the early morning, and he might be a little weirded out but he’s also six times more comfortable than he’s been in weeks.

If he can just figure out how not to get entangled in supernatural drama this’ll be great.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN EXPLAIN. 
> 
> Okay so I originally started this as a longer thing, with some ideas in mind, but it ended up as a one-shot cause I couldn’t get it to cooperate with me. Then the comments on this were LIT. OFF THE CHAIN. A-MAZ-ING. And suddenly I had written 4 more chapters of vampire drama…??
> 
> So, yes, 4 chapters are written and will be posted over the next 2 weeks. They form a complete plot arc so you will get a concluded story with room for a sequel or spin off or whatever in the future depending on what happens. 
> 
> A big thank you to BenevolentlyMad and Mouser26 who single-handedly drove me to furiously write another 45+ pages of saucy vampires. I have stolen one or two of your suggestions. 
> 
> Also, big thanks to my friend Arcane for helping me theorise the practicalities of a vampire road trip. 
> 
> Also also, big thanks to Stephanie Myer and Anne Rice for being crazy bitches I have pilfered from hand over fist.

Noctis and his coven live in a glorious glass and steel house in the woods in far northern Washington along a cold coastline. Prompto has never seen anything like it. He was bought up in pretty crappy rental homes sleeping mostly on sofas. Prompto is used to the stank of mold and cigarettes. Prompto’s mother and her boyfriends used to punch holes in the walls and leave marijuana flecks on the coffee table all smeared.

It’s nothing like that with Noctis and his coven. Ignis maintains the house fastidiously. Everything is expensive, well kept, and _clean_. Gladio has a beautiful library with big, sturdy, armchairs. Ignis has a kitchen with sleek appliances and every spice known to man. Noctis? Noctis has game consoles and comic books and indie rock band CDs.

Noctis, somehow, seems totally part of this century even if he’s supposedly the oldest. Noctis won’t give Prompto an exact age. He seems a little coy about how old he really is but if Gladio and Ignis are five hundred years old then Noctis could be six hundred years old or more! Prompto finds that hard to fathom. Noctis is so much like him, barely seems older than sixteen. Like maybe he could pretend he was eighteen at a push with a convincing fake ID but Prompto would believe sixteen much more readily.

Prompto learns that vampires can withstand the sun but their eerie perfections seem all the more striking and off-putting in daylight. At night they’re beautiful but in the cold light of day they’re too-pretty. Upsettingly, unnaturally pretty. Prompto’s brain computes much faster they’re predators in the harsh light of day.

Vampires can eat too. Ignis loves making human food. He finds it fascinating. That said human food doesn’t sustain them like blood. They want real meat. Gladio likes to hunt bears in the woods and Ignis doesn’t talk about his eating habits much but he seems to have a handful of _‘friends_ ’ in the nearby cities who he visits. Prompto doesn’t have any proof but he gets the feeling Ignis exchanges a little sexual pleasure for the blood of his victims. Ignis won’t give him a clear answer but in the unspoken gaps he leaves Prompto’s brain goes to that place.

Noctis? Noctis likes Prompto. Noctis’ favourite time to feed is when they’re drifting off to sleep. The coven sleep whenever they want, sometimes all day, sometimes all night, but whenever they decide to lay down and rest Noctis tucks up against Prompto’s back. Some nights nothing happens but others, maybe one in three, Noctis will nuzzle a bite against Prompto’s neck and suck till Prompto’s vision is popping with stars. It’s never enough but it always feels weirdly good and tingly. Prompto falls asleep almost immediately after Noctis’ attention; exhausted and fuzzy and warm all over. Noctis is warm against his back when he feeds and cool like marble a few hours later when Prompto wakes.

The vampires don’t force Prompto to do anything. They all have hobbies and talents, amassed over centuries of learning new things, and they invite Prompto to pick up books or surf the web whenever he wants but if he just wants to spend all day playing video games with Noctis he can. Noctis seems to like saturated fat and intense sugar hits just as much as blood somedays so there’s mountain dew and Doritos for many happy afternoons. 

Prompto was failing high school before he ran away but, as Ignis says;

“It’s likely very hard to focus on your studies when you’re being beaten.”

Now? In the safe harbour of the coven house?

Prompto can learn something new whenever he wants. No pressure, no due dates, no beatings, no insults…. If he spends the afternoon playing video games? Noctis is delighted. If he learns a couple new phrases in Spanish on his phone? Ignis applauds his progress. If he wants to run on the treadmill in the house gym or walk in the woods? Gladio is always keen to join him.

Prompto feels….

He feels _safe._

His new roommates are attentive and easy going. Prompto’s snoring doesn’t annoy them, it’s so foreign they find it cute even. Prompto’s clumsiness is just part of his charm to them. They like talking to him, they like his warmth, they want to be relaxed and friendly and happy just like he does.

One morning Prompto wakes to Noctis playing the piano in the corner of the downstairs lounge. Noctis plays really well, kind of stream of consciousness plays; at first it sounds absent, like background music, and then it becomes playful, then frantic, then takes a sharp sudden turn into mournful and desperate and heart wrenching and—

“You’re good at that,” Prompto murmurs, hands in his hoodie pockets.

Noctis startles, lifting his head, and smiles at Prompto. He shuffles over so Prompto can join him at the seat.

“Do you play any instruments?” Noctis asks. “I like the piano. Prefer the violin frankly, but the piano is nice.”

“I played a recorder really badly in elementary school,” Prompto laughs. “I never got music lessons or anything like that.”

“It’s not so hard, not as hard as people make it sound,” Noctis promises. “You just need patience and practice and, honestly, if you’re not trying to sound like anything you don’t have to. You can just _play_.”

“Would…” Prompto hesitates. “Would you show me how…?”

Noctis glances, frowning softly. “You know, I don’t think I’ve taught anyone anything for more than a century.” He laughs weakly, expression softening. “I’m not sure I’d be a great teacher, is that okay?”

“Yeah!” Prompto promises. “I want to learn with you. We’ll just have fun. Please?”

“Okay,” Noctis relents with a smile, “okay, so, hands—”

Prompto’s not a fast study but Noctis never seems to get frustrated. Noctis is centuries old after all, what does he care if Prompto fumbles for ten minutes or twenty? Right?

Sometimes Prompto gets frustrated but then Noctis splatters his hands across the keys, making glorious nonsense sounds, and Prompto can’t help but laugh. It’s okay. It’s just for fun. Prompto doesn’t have to be perfect he reminds himself. He just has to have fun learning. And that ease, that comfort, makes it much easier to learn.

* * *

After two months Prompto feels perfectly at home amongst the vampires. He’s made himself a little routine. Morning work out with Gladio, breakfast with everyone, then he spends most of the day pestering his roommates to teach him things as they lounge about indulging their hobbies, then dinner, then movies or video games, then bed and maybe a bite.

Prompto’s never been so relaxed. He’s even started putting on some weight from all the regular meals and his hair is much softer now he can bathe regularly without fear of freezing. He’s safe. He’s happy. He doesn’t know what his future holds but, right now, he’s happy just to do this for as long as he’s able. Ignis is even looking into a test he can take at the local community college to get his high school diploma when he’s ready and, for the first time in forever, that prospect seems possible, exciting even.

This morning Ignis has made eggs for breakfast.

Noctis is sizzling, all bubbling happy vibes, mostly because he fed off Prompto last night and that always fills him with energy. He’s dancing in his seat, singing along to the radio, and unsurprisingly Noctis seems to know every hit song of the last forty years by heart.

Prompto is eating, smiling, watching Gladio flick through the newspaper lazily.

Ignis is playing solitaire on his end of the table, occasionally meeting Prompto’s glance with a smile.

It’s so domestic.

Prompto always wanted a life like this.

He didn’t imagine it’d be with vampires but, well…. Beggars can’t be choosers, right?

Then, like magic, Gladio stiffens at the table. He lowers the newspaper, nose up, and, in short order, Ignis is sniffing too.

Noctis doesn’t acknowledge their fluster.

“Noctis,” Ignis presses, then again when Noctis doesn’t stop singing; _“Noctis_.”

“I smell them,” Noctis sighs, arms slumping. “So what?”

“They’re coming this way,” Gladio remarks. “Should we--?”

“We should finish breakfast.” Noctis dismisses.

“Noctis this is serious,” Ignis insists.

“What?” Prompto stiffens. “What’s serious? What’s coming?”

“Guests are coming,” Noctis slumps in his seat.

“Old, powerful, vampires.” Ignis emphasises to Noctis.

“Old, intelligent, relatives of mine.” Noctis snaps back, unwavering in his slouch.

“And you will have no trouble,” Ignis is certain. “But there are scents older than Gladio and I, stronger than us, and Prompto is _human_ and—”

“And no one will spill blood, mortal or otherwise, in my home if they know what’s good for them.” Noctis cuts levelly.

“We should prepare ourselves.” Gladio grunts.

“You prepare yourselves by calming down.” Noctis orders.

For a second, even as the smallest of the three, some part of Noctis’ age shines through. His rank as Gladio and Ignis’ sire shimmers into view and Prompto can hear something new in Noctis; battle hardened, world weary, ready for anything…

Prompto wonders, not for the first time, how old Noctis is and how strong they all are. How old is _old_ for vampires? How long do they live?

“We should hide Prompto,” Ignis declares.

“Prompto is my companion,” Noctis snaps. “I am not hiding him like dirty laundry.”

“He’s _fragile_.” Ignis pleads.

“And no one will dare touch him.” Noctis maintains. “Because if they do I’ll _kill_ them.”

“You…?” Prompto swallows. “Iggy you said there are vampire factions, right? Who’s coming?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Noctis interrupts. “There are two factions and then there’s us. We don’t belong to either of them and neither of them hold any sway over us. If they want to start a second war—Well, they won’t. They’re not that stupid.”

Prompto’s brain chews on the notion. He couldn’t think about it two months ago when he was cold and starving but now it occurs to him; if every vampire belongs to one of two factions, why are Noctis and his coven different? How did they escape that distinction? What makes them special exactly?

“Prompto you’re to stay by my side,” Noctis instructs gently. “Same for you two. You are to stay close and _calm_. Everything is going to be fine.”

Ignis nods stiffly, looking very fretful, and Gladio’s jaw is hard set across the table.

Prompto swallows. He knows his companions have heightened senses. Gladio can hear a deer pissing a mile off and Ignis can taste a drop of detergent in a bathtub full of water. Noctis might be even keener than them if age equates to strength amongst vampires. They must know his heart is pounding, that he’s nervous, and their guests will likely know too.

Are they in danger?

Ignis seems to think so.

But Prompto trusts Noctis and he wants to believe if Noctis says it’s going to be okay then it will be.

Ignis cleans up the dishes at Noctis’ direction and Gladio curls his hands to fists in his lap, just waiting. Noctis then moves all three of them into the lounge and makes them sit. They’re on the longer couch; Prompto and Noctis in the middle, hands clasped, Ignis and Gladio either side.

“Prompto,” Noctis murmurs gently. “This is your home now. Because you’re human that means when our guests arrive they will need _your_ permission to enter the house.”

“Me…?” Prompto wavers. “But it’s your house…?”

“Between vampires there’s no need for permission.” Noctis nods. “But you are human and you live here so you effect new vampires. You can give them permission to enter and you can revoke that permission.”

“What if I don’t give permission?” Prompto wonders. “Does that mean they can’t enter?”

“They could,” Noctis shrugs. “But it’s…. it’s like a legal thing. They’re not protected under other vampire laws and tenants if they break that rule. It would be considered trespassing if they ignore your wishes and anything that might happen to them while they’re trespassing is considered their fault.”

“So, say they enter, and I revoke permission?”

“Then a smart vampire would leave.” Noctis nods. “Your consent is subject to change as you see fit.”

“Can I let one vampire enter and not another?” Prompto pinches his brow.

Noctis grins softly; “yes, you can.”

Prompto nods, digesting that. Okay, so… he’ll just make sure as few vampires as possible enter the house. Right? That sounds smart. If Noctis and the coven can outnumber their guests then they should be safer.

It’s a tense five minutes longer before a crisp knock comes on the front door.

“Come on,” Noctis tugs his hand, leading them both towards the front door.

Ignis and Gladio stay on the lounge, fretful and still.

Noctis opens the door.

Prompto is expecting the worse but…

There are three cars, all of them dark and expensive. In ignis’ front garden there are maybe ten vampires. All of them pristine, too attractive and perfect in the morning light. It feels kind of horrific to Prompto’s instincts to see so many in daylight like he’s entered a wolves’ den, ya know?

On the porch there are three vampires. Two older men, almost grey and tall, and a younger man who might be early thirties with a braided Mohawk and broad shoulders.

“Morning Noctis,” the softer of the older men greets, all salt and pepper beard and cane. He’s too young to have a cane, maybe forty-five, so an injury perhaps?

“Regis,” Noctis greets, “Clarus, Nyx… and I see you bought company.”

“Just an entourage.” Regis assures. “Travelling is dangerous this century with so many factors. It’s more for my peace of mind than a show of force.”

“Though a show of force is always useful,” Noctis supposes levelly.

“In some cases, yes.” Regis admits, tentatively. “Your charming companion is…?”

“Prompto,” Noctis jerks his head in Prompto’s direction, squeezing their joint hands.

“A pleasure to meet you Prompto,” Regis greets formally.

“Nice to meet you,” Prompto murmurs throat dry. He’s not sure what he was expecting but Regis doesn’t seem aggressive or threatening. All the vampires in one place? That’s freaky but Regis seems civil enough and everyone is using their manners.

“Might we come inside, Prompto?” Regis asks.

“You can come inside, Regis,” Prompto specifies carefully.

“None of my companions?” Regis gestures to his entourage.

“I would feel more comfortable that way,” Prompto holds his ground.

“I understand,” Regis nods, “might I ask for one companion? I am not as able bodied as I used to be and sometimes I require some assistance.”

“Okay, well….” Prompto hesitates. “Who’s youngest….?”

Regis chuckles. “You’ve prepped this one, Noctis.”

“He’s clever.” Noctis shrugs unapologetically.

“Well…” Regis glances, “I shudder to think how old Clarus is but Nyx, you’re young, aren’t you?”

“Six hundred and twelve, Sir.” Nyx specifies readily.

“Do we have anyone younger?” Regis glances to his entourage who subtly shake their heads. “Hmm, will Nyx be acceptable Prompto?”

“Nyx may come inside,” Prompto permits.

“Thank you,” Regis smiles charmingly.

“Thanking you kindly,” Nyx tips his head, like Prompto outranks him or something.

Noctis pulls Prompto back and Nyx helps Regis into the house. Regis moves like he’s got a bad leg on one side but he manages pretty well with it.

In the lounge Ignis and Gladio remain seated as Noctis and Prompto return to their spots between them.

“Gentlemen,” Regis bows a little.

Ignis and Gladio incline their chins in polite acknowledgement.

“Lords,” Nyx bows much deeper, practically bent in two.

“Sit,” Noctis invites. “I know your leg is bad, Regis.”

“Thank you, Noctis,” Regis falls back with Nyx’s assistance.

“It’s not like you to visit me,” Noctis supposes once they’re settled, Nyx standing back with his hands clasped.

“I know you’re not incredibly social,” Regis nods. “I like to respect your preference for privacy but I find I need your help now.”

“Need it? Or _want_ it?” Noctis needles, legs folding, fingers laced with Prompto.

“The clans have established borders.” Regis continues. “Ardyn has the old world; Europe, Asia, Africa. The rest, the new world, is ours. We have maintained a level of peace that way.”

“A piss poor peace,” Noctis huffs.

“Ardyn has come to the Amercias.” Regis warns. “He is disregarding our boundaries.”

“Why do I care about your self-imposed rules?” Noctis frowns deeply. “Your borders are artificial. Where there are men there are vampires. Ardyn is entitled to travel, so are you.”

“Those are our customs, to keep the peace,” Regis insists. “I would like Ardyn to leave with as little bloodshed as possible. He is unlikely to listen to me but if you ask him—”

“You don’t want me to ask him,” Noctis snaps. “You want me to order him.”

“He would listen to you,” Regis continues to try and reason.

“I’ve told you and I’ve told him that I have no interest in getting involved with any of you.” Noctis answers coolly. “Until this ridiculous war is over I have no interest in helping any of you with anything.”

“He started this,” Regis shrugs, a flash of stubbornness creeping through him. “Tell him—”

“Technically, Somnus started this.” Noctis seems to remind them. “Your sire drew first blood. So don’t act all high and mighty with me, Regis. You’re all guilty of fucking up and I don’t care who started it. I care who is going to be big enough to end it peacefully.”

“You could end it.” Regis tries again, pressing with just a flourish of desperation. “If you stepped in you could settle the argument once and for all. No one would question—”

“If I get involved more people will die and I have no interest in killing anyone. Least of all family.” Noctis shoots back, level but brutally cold.

“If you claimed your authority—”

“Get out.” Noctis growls.

“Then let them pick sides.” Regis demands, pointing roughly to Ignis and Gladio. “Let them—”

“ _Get out._ ” Noctis snaps, harder this time. Hard enough for a cold chill to run through the entire room. It feels like the static before lightning hits.

“All Father—” Regis crumples.

Prompto feels the tension rising, the bubble about to burst, and announces stupidly;

“I revoke my permission!”

The vampires yank back, turning to Prompto.

There’s a kind of perfect silence, a stillness.

“I… I revoke my permission.” Prompto repeats. “So… you should leave.”

Regis sighs, sagging in his seat, but nods weakly.

“Nyx,” he grunts.

The solider darts forward, looking like a rabbit about to spook, and quickly helps Regis onto his feet.

Regis glances, briefly, to Noctis. He looks like he wants to say something else, try again, but his mouth closes tightly under the icy chill of Noctis’ glare and he thinks better of it.

The front door closes quietly in the foyer a moment later.

Gladio sags, wheezing, and all but slides off the couch in a heap.

Ignis runs a shaky hand through his hair and, turning cautiously, murmurs; “Noctis…?”

Noctis is still. His eyes look a thousand miles off and his hand is limp in between Prompto’s fingers. When he’s this still he looks like a painting, a figment, a doll. Prompto thinks Noctis always looks like a child, like a teenager, but right now something inside him seems much, much, older. Its gnawing, like an open maw into the void, and it frightens Prompto.

“Noct,” Ignis tries gently. “Are you alright…?”

“Are you?” Noctis murmurs weakly, a little slurred like he’s not quite there with them.

“I’m fine, Noct,” Ignis promises, cautiously taking his other hand. “I’m just fine. Gladio is fine. Prompto is fine. Are you…?”

“No,” Noctis murmurs, still suspended in some awful feeling they can’t seem to reach.

“Should…?” Ignis doesn’t seem to know what to suggest.

“I want to sleep.” Noctis tells them softly. “I’m going to sleep.”

“Alright…” Ignis relents.

Prompto watches, confused and pained, as Noctis eases up and quietly traipses out of the lounge up the stairs to the master bedroom.

Prompto feels so confused.

He looks to Ignis, his pursed tight lips, and doesn’t know how to ask.

“Iggy…?” He rasps. “What just happened?”

Ignis sighs, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. He squeezes for a second then, slouching back, opens his arm and offers a spot against his side to Prompto. Prompto curls up against him, still feeling safe with these creatures despite everything, and Gladio leans forward to rest into his knees on the other side of the lounge.

“Noctis…” Ignis pauses, trying to explain. “Noctis has made four vampires during his existence. Before Gladio and I he made Somnus and Ardyn. They each made vampires and those vampires made vampires and they formed the two factions we know today.”

“But they fought?” Prompto tries to understand.

“Somnus killed Ardyn’s Mate for some barely understood reason. Then, enraged, Ardyn killed Somnus. So Somnus’ descendants have fought Ardyn and his descendants ever since. They’ve torn the whole supernatural world in half. Most people have had to pick a side.”

“But…” Prompto feels a piece clicking into place. “But Noctis made them both, so he’s not technically from either family? Is that…?”

“Yes, exactly.” Ignis nods gently. “Noctis removed himself from the picture when things got ugly. Somnus’ heirs, Ardyn and his heirs… they’re all related back to Noctis. He sees them all as a family. He finds the notion of hurting any of them obscene.”

“When did this happen?” Prompto tries to compute. “I mean… surely there were other vampires around? Like someone had to make Noctis, right?”

“Noctis is…” Ignis sighs. “Noctis was the first.”

“The first vampire?” Prompto wheezes. “Like _ever?_ ”

“Yes,” Ignis nods. “I don’t know the specifics. It was thousands of years ago now, the dawn of human civilisation or perhaps earlier, but Noctis was born somehow. I don’t think he was ever human, not exactly.”

“He’s…” Prompto fumbles, mouth opening and closing. “He’s that old?”

Ignis nods weakly.

“He doesn’t seem it,” Ignis murmurs after a moment. “But he has power unlike any of the others. Still he’s…. he’s much like you, Prompto. He was spawned from the earth, from some dark fissure, but all he really wants is a family. When the war started it was too much for him to bear so he went into hiding. Five hundred years ago he made me and Gladio, tried to build another family, but in many ways that’s not so long ago for him.”

“He must be really protective of you guys…” Prompto whispers.

“He wants to know peace with us.” Ignis sighs. “He would be heartbroken if Gladio and I were drawn into the fighting but that doesn’t mean the fighting itself still doesn’t upset him too.”

Prompto feels heavy. He can’t find the words.

“Iggy and I get a pass,” Gladio speaks up finally, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. “We don’t have to pick a side because Noctis has exempted us from the argument. But… lots of vampires have to live with the reality of being at war. It’s rough out there. Lots of creatures want to get involved, not just vampires.” 

Prompto chews his nails absently, mind churning.

“They’ve found Noctis now,” Ignis rues, “they’ll come here more.”

“Maybe,” Gladio grunts. “Noct was pretty clear about his stance.”

“I know but…” Ignis sighs. “Others might be more insistent Noctis take a stand and if Ardyn is come to the Americas…”

“He might visit us too.” Gladio nods, digesting. “That is a possibility.”

Prompto chews, fretting.

* * *

Noctis sleeps for a solid twenty-four hours and seems to show no sign of stirring. Prompto thinks he has to wake up eventually but Gladio tells him;

“Sleep is an emotional thing for vampires. Noctis could sleep for years if he wanted to.”

Prompto spends a lot of time curled in the armchairs in the library, just thinking. Ignis and Gladio flow around him, equally worried in their own ways, but without Noctis none of them seem to know how to talk to each other casually. Noctis’ dismay hangs over the whole house no matter how lovely said house is.

It occurs to Prompto that this is above his paygrade. He knows very little about vampires let alone supernatural warfare. This could get really nasty and Prompto is very breakable. He considers leaving, starting over somewhere, maybe with some pity money from the coven but….

Prompto likes it here.

It’s not just the warm meals or the soft beds either. Prompto likes Noctis, Gladio and Ignis. He likes having breakfast with the three of them. He likes their different demeanours and their welcoming smiles. Prompto feels like he fits in here. It’s weird, considering he must stick out like a sore thumb objectively speaking, but the coven have made him feel like a welcome addition to the family.

Like Noctis, Prompto wants a family more than anything.

Prompto weighs the two possibilities; maybe the vampires won’t escalate? Even if they do a ‘ _quick_ ’ escalation for vampires might be decades. Prompto could still have many happy years here unhindered by drama. Say the vampires do escalate though, say things get bad, does Prompto want to die in a vampire war or out in the streets freezing behind a dumpster?

Is it worth it?

Is another happy breakfast with the coven worth the risk of dying young?

Honestly, Prompto thinks so.

He can’t explain the happy feeling, the glow, that seeps through his whole body when the coven are happy with him. It’s like nothing else he’s ever experienced in his short, painful, life. He’d trade forty miserable years slaving away on his own over two more months here with the coven.

Prompto makes his choice.

Whatever happens he’s staying.

Next problem?

He’s got to wake Noctis up.

Prompto unfolds out of the armchair, on the third day of Noctis’ sleep, and rolling up his hoodie sleeves stalks out of the library with renewed purpose. Gladio watches him go, likely able to read something in his gait, but doesn’t immediately follow.

Prompto unfolds the key cap off the piano and sits on the bench.

He starts dazedly, lazily. He’s gotten pretty good in a short amount of time without distractions like hunger and the pleasure of Noctis’ ever patient private tutoring guiding him through. Prompto tip-taps across the keys, just exploring, just playing…

He glances up, hands working, and finds Gladio waiting against the wall curiously.

Turning back down Prompto tries something different. He glances back to the sheet music they’ve left out, the last songs they were practising, and flips the pages to something he knows is more melancholic. He’s not as good as Noctis. His fingers don’t quite move fast enough to maintain perfect tempo but he tries his best. He churns through the song, twice, just pouring out his heart clumsily onto the keys.

Another glance finds Ignis in a kitchen chair nearby, just watching.

Well, that’s two. But he wasn’t trying to catch those vampires.

Prompto gives up trying to match sheet music. He rolls back into experimental, just strolling across the keys, but his intensity starts to build. He mashes the keys, starting tangents and then darting away from them violently, leaving whole musical sentences unfinished. Some of the patterns he doesn’t know how to satisfyingly complete yet without Noctis’ help but other patterns he purposefully mashes out and leaves hanging just begging, pleading, for Noctis to come and finish the pattern. Prompto can finish the line, they both know that, but he purposefully doesn’t half to irritate, half in irritation.

Prompto mashes harder, frantic and frazzled, and he’s about to slump, out of breath, when—

Noctis hands scramble suddenly along the other end of the keyboard, just sliding raucously over the keys, mashing childishly.

Prompto startles, head whipping up.

Noctis taps the keys roughly, the same nonsense sounds, but he’s smiling.

Prompto grins, laughing, and batters the keys under his hands.

Noctis darts, hands running over Prompto’s like he’s forcing his way onto the blonde’s turf just to be a jerk. Prompto laughs, getting all up in his business likewise, and then, finally, Noctis starts to giggle.

Noctis slumps into the bench, laughing, and Prompto feels a bubble of glorious joy squelch in his chest. Noctis leans into him, head on his shoulder, and Prompto rests against him in turn their hands sliding off the keys lazily.

There’s a few seconds, perfect peace, but then Gladio’s arms are locked around them crushing them into his chest. He rubs down into their cheeks, nuzzling frantically, almost like a big dog. Noctis trills and Prompto can almost feel the relief seeping out of Gladio, the gratitude?

Noctis’ cheek gets a sloppy kiss, Prompto’s too, and then they’re both laughing again trying to bat Gladio’s frantic attention away. But the bear will not be shifted so easily.

“I think dinner is in order,” Ignis’ smile is audible over their shoulders.

It occurs to Prompto that Ignis hasn’t so much as looked at his kitchen in three days. He was insistent Prompto not starve but cup noodles and toast are not like Ignis.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm in Australia. Things are kind of scary here. Stay safe out there guys. I'll just be here posting fic till someone stops me. 
> 
> Was gonna wait a few more days to post this but today was shiiiiit. I need your lovely faces, please?

Ignis makes them an elaborate home cooked meal and insists on dessert for everyone. Even when Prompto declares he’s going to burst. Noctis licks cream off his fingers and Ignis looks so indulgent, so doting, he can’t seem to remember why it normally bothers him when Noctis does the exact same thing at other meals. Even when Gladio reminds him _pointedly_.

That night Noctis feeds, just a little, off Prompto and Prompto floats off in the feeling falling into a deep, warm, sleep.

Noctis is cold behind him when they wake up the following morning, cuddled like kittens, but that’s normal. Noctis’ cool vampiric skin doesn’t hold heat very well.

Prompto rolls over to face him, tapping his nose, and Noctis seems reluctant to stir but Prompto snuggles closer and nips the tip of his nose with his teeth.

Noctis opens one eye cheekily and sticks his tongue out at Prompto.

Prompto beams.

“So,” he whispers, “normal day?”

“Maybe not,” Noctis whispers, “I sense guests. Again.”

“Ugh,” Prompto flops onto his back and covers his face in his hands. “Are they scary vampires?”

“Yep,” Noctis nods, “but we can handle them. I’m not going to sleep through my own happiness.”

“Right,” Prompto slumps his hands, “life’s too short; got to enjoy the time we have. I won’t be young and cute forever.”

“You’ll always be cute,” Noctis smiles.

Gladio chooses that moment to burst into the master bedroom and announce;

“Noct--!”

“I can smell them,” Noctis promises. “I’m up, I’m up…”

Gladio looks sick with worry but Noctis has them all dress for the day calmly and then corrals them back in the lounge like last time. Prompto feels like he’s ready for this now. He can do this. It’s just some other vampires. They’ll be fine.

Just like last time Noctis takes Prompto to answer the front door.

This gaggle of vampires are as disconcerting as the last but the one on the porch strikes Prompto as very different to Regis. He just holds himself in a way that’s effortlessly lazy. Prompto can sort of feel a vibe, not unlike Noctis in some ways, and he assumes this must be Ardyn.

“Ardyn,” Noctis confirms.

“Starlight,” Ardyn tips his hat coyly. “Might I come in?”

“Depends,” Noctis tuts, “are you going to upset me?”

“Perish the thought!” Ardyn clutches his chest theatrically. “I was made to please you!”

“You’ve done a piss poor job of _that_ ,” Noctis huffs at a strand of hair in his face. “What do you think Prompto?”

Prompto considers.

Talking seems a better way to keep things steady. If Prompto doesn’t let the vampire in to talk then things might escalate into more outright violence. He doesn’t want that.

“I would like to invite Ardyn inside,” Prompto declares.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” Ardyn fawns, “and, might I just say, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

Noctis tugs Prompto back, making room for Ardyn to swoop inside.

“What do you mean?” Noctis presses in the hallway. “Don’t tell me you rank gossips are already spreading stories about my human?”

“Oh no, not exactly,” Ardyn dismisses traipsing past them and into the lounge without waiting for Noctis to lead. Forced to follow behind him, lest Gladio and Ignis be left blindsided, Noctis scowls hand-in-hand with Prompto.

“Then what, exactly?” Noctis pushes again, putting Prompto on the couch between Gladio and Ignis.

“Hello little brothers,” Ardyn greets Gladio and Ignis with a playful little wave. “Such a pleasure. You don’t at all look his type but then, after a few thousand years, what would I know? Am I right?”

“ _Ardyn_ ,” Noctis snaps.

“Yes Starlight?” Ardyn pivots back dutifully.

“Answer the question.”

“Oh, well, little Prompto is family!” Ardyn elaborates. “I’ve been keeping one eye on him but imagine my surprise when he fell into your company. Seems we do share some tastes still, eh?”

Noctis frowns.

“Why were you…?” Prompto finds himself asking stupidly. “Do I know you…?”

“No, no of course not,” Ardyn chuckles. “It’s just a hobby of mine, a passion project. My Mate, before he came to the night, fathered a child as a human. I find it gives me great joy to keep an eye on his descendants. Something of a curiosity.”

“ _W-what?_ ” Prompto feels his stomach backflip.

“Your joke isn’t funny, Ardyn.” Noctis snaps, arms folding.

“Oh it’s no joke, Starlight,” Ardyn promises, feigning bashfulness; “just a silly hobby. Prompto Argentum, son of Pruvia Argentum, son of Axis Argentum, son of—is that too far back, Sunshine? Humans don’t track that long anymore, do you?”

Prompto feels the colour draining from his cheeks.

“I always find it so delightful when one of the offspring loops back to bear an altogether striking resemblance to Verstael,” Ardyn laughs nonchalantly. “Would you like to see a picture?”

Noctis thrusts his hand out, even though the question is directed at Prompto, and Ardyn makes a show of fumbling in his wallet for a Polaroid.

Noctis takes it and turns it up the right way in his hands.

“You…” He fumbles, visibly taken aback.

“Show me,” Prompto demands.

“Of course!” Ardyn produces another photo from a coat pocket and presents it while Noctis is still gaping.

Prompto snatches up the photo. It’s obviously a vampire now he knows what to look for, too handsome in every way, but in the features he can see it. Young, blonde, blue-eyed, a little sharper but uncannily _Prompto_. They’ve—Well, technically Prompto supposes he’s got _their face_.

“How long have you…?”

“Hmm?” Ardyn prompts.

“L-like… _my whole life?”_ Prompto wheezes.

“Well, I have people checking in,” Ardyn shrugs. “I was very disappointed Pruvia turned out to be such a derelict vagabond but when he had you I renewed my interest somewhat. You’ve always proven clever. I was looking to push a little good luck your way when you ran away but Noctis found you first! Can you imagine? What a coincidence; I was looking for both of you!”

“What do you want?” Noctis demands, stony.

“Well, two things.” Ardyn pivots. “I was so hoping you’d return to the limelight, settle some disputes, you know; do you duty.”

“And?” Noctis presses suspiciously.

“Well, I came to make a claim on Prompto. I assume you’re not—”

“ _Absolutely not!_ ” Noctis hisses.

Prompto’s head whips back and forth between Noctis and Ardyn.

“Claim? What’s a claim?” Prompto demands.

“I am entitled—” Ardyn begins nonchalantly.

“And I outrank you!” Noctis spits, visibly distressed.

“You do,” Ardyn concedes, “so the usual window then? Three days?”

“If you want to fight over him, Ardyn, you can—” Noctis seethes.

“Fight? Heavens no!” Ardyn flusters theatrically. “He’s just a human, I wouldn’t put bad blood between _us_ for that, Starlight! But those are coven rules, _your rules_. Don’t you remember? You instituted that one when the grandchildren were fighting over fodder. I try to keep to the bylaws but if you’re saying they no longer apply—”

“I didn’t say that.” Noctis growls, hands curled into fists.

“Well then!” Ardyn claps his hands together. “Three days it is! I so can’t wait for the debutante ball. You will do that, won’t you? You’re overdue for, what? Two of those already.”

“And if I do, you suppose you’ll be invited?” Noctis is furious.

“Well, if not me then Verstael, of course.” Ardyn plays another show of innocent offence. “Prompto’s his blood kin. He is entitled to him, don’t you think? After all, all your blood kin are beholden to you, are we not?”

“Get out of my house.” Noctis orders.

“I fear I’ve upset you,” Ardyn murmurs coyly. “However can I apologise my darling?”

“ _Now._ ” Noctis seethes.

“Yes, yes, of course.” Ardyn retreats, putting his hat back on his head. “Can’t wait for the festivities!”

Noctis is plainly livid.

Teeth clenched he hisses, digging his hands in his hair.

“Noctis,” Gladio murmurs, “we can’t panic. We need to—”

“Don’t tell me what to feel Gladiolus!” Noctis booms.

“What did any of that mean?” Prompto demands, frantic. “What he said? What happens in three days? What’s happens to _me?_ ”

“Noctis,” Ignis urges gently. “Prompto is upset. You need to help him.”

Noctis growls, fingers cagey, but sags with a tight sigh.

“Vampires can…” Noctis groans. “Vampires can call _dibs_ on a human.”

“W-what?” Prompto retches.

“Ardyn wants to turn you,” Noctis murmurs, “but I outrank him. So I get three days to dispute his claim.”

“What does that mean?” Prompto fumbles, frantic.

“It means I get a chance to turn you first.” Noctis explains sombrely.

Prompto swallows, trying to digest that. “W-what about the other stuff? The debutante stuff?”

“If Ardyn’s Mate is your blood kin he has certain rights in a relationship with you, especially if you’re a vampire.” Noctis tries to answer. “You would outrank him if I turned you myself but blood relation is the highest form of connection in vampiric society. You would have a blood relation to him and to me.”

Prompto feels himself stutter, lips trying to move.

“What if you don’t turn me?”

“Then Ardyn will come back and I’ll tell him to get fucked.” Noctis promises.

“But that would start a fight.” Ignis warns Prompto gently. “Ardyn is entitled to make a claim on any human. If Noctis doesn’t turn you himself but he refuses Ardyn the right then that is an insult which starts a formal dispute.”

“So he could start another war or whatever?” Prompto supposes.

“It would be a quick way to involve Noctis in the current fighting, yes.” Ignis nods.

“And if Noct does turn me,” Prompto follows, “but he denies this Verstael guy the right to see me or whatever?”

“Another dispute.” Gladio grunts.

“But with Verstael, not Ardyn.” Prompto supposes. “Isn’t that better?”

“Ardyn and Verstael are Mates. A dispute with one is a dispute with both.” Ignis shakes his head. “If Noctis turned you he wouldn’t necessarily have to get involved in the war itself but he would have to engage in wider vampiric society again. He and Verstael would, essentially, have a joint custody over you.”

“Oh…” Prompto murmurs. “And… with you guys, Noct didn’t have to do that? Because you’re not related to anyone important?”

“Exactly.” Ignis nods. “No one tracked our lineages. We were human nobodies. No other vampires had any rights over us so, in that case, Noctis didn’t have to _‘present us_ ’ to the society. We were allowed to remain recluses.”

“And vampire ranks,” Prompto checks, “the closer you are in relation to Noctis the higher ranked you are, is that right?”

“Yes,” Ignis confirms. “Ardyn and Somnus formed the two clans which currently exist. Most vampires are in some way a _‘grandchild_ ’ of Noctis’ or an even greater distant relation through them. Gladio and I are, technically, of equal rank to Ardyn. But because he is older than us he is physically stronger than both of us.”

“So…” Prompto slumps back. “So I have to become a vampire then…?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Noctis asserts firmly. “We won’t be bullied.”

“If I don’t become a vampire you’ll have to fight,” Prompto reminds, “and I don’t want that. You don’t want that.”

“ _Ugh_ …” Noctis drags his hands through his hair. “He’s got me in a fucking corner….”

“It’ll be fine,” Prompto asserts. “I can handle it.”

“Being a vampire is a big thing, Prom,” Gladio warns. “You’ll be sixteen years old forever. You already can’t drink or vote or anything. You’ll never be a legal adult in human society. That restricts you. Besides, if you become a vampire? You can’t have kids, a wife, grow old, make an impact on history… do you really want that?”

“I…” Prompto wavers. “I want to stay here, with you guys. If that means I become a vampire I—I don’t mind? I’ll just be me, except a vampire, right?”

“Not exactly,” Ignis shakes his head. “Vampirism warps and accentuates human traits. It intensifies things.”

“You and Gladio turned out okay.” Prompto shrugs. “What’s the big deal?”

“We were very different humans,” Gladio grunts. “I was a _thug_. Spent all my time getting drunk and fighting.”

“I was worse,” Ignis murmurs ruefully. “We got lucky.”

“There’s no telling what my blood would do to you, Prom.” Noctis admits. “Vampirism amps everything to eleven. It drives some people _insane_. You could be a blathering mess after the turn.”

“Yeah but,” Prompto laughs weakly, “we don’t really have any better options, do we?”

Noctis takes a deep breath.

“There is a third option,” Ignis admits. “We could let Ardyn turn Prompto?”

Prompto jerks towards Ignis.

“I just suggest it because—” Ignis quickly tries to explain himself.

“Absolutely not,” Noctis snaps. “That’s not an option.”

“Well….” Prompto hesitates. “I don’t like the idea but I wanna hear what Iggy means?”

Noctis scowls but folds his arms.

“If Ardyn turns Prompto, Prompto is part of his clan and Noctis is effectively uninvolved in the proceedings altogether.”

Prompto chews on that for a second.

“I don’t want Ardyn to turn you,” Noctis insists to Prompto. “Do you want that?”

“That is a long-term decision.” Gladio agrees. “Again, not a choice to be made lightly.”

“We should take some time, think.” Ignis encourages. “We need to weigh up our options.”

“The decision is Prompto’s.” Noctis announces curtly. “I will support whatever Prompto wants.”

“Of course,” Ignis eases back.

* * *

Prompto does think about it. Noctis seems determined to forget the morning, drags Prompto into a session of video games, but Prompto does think about it.

Gladio and Ignis made some good points.

Prompto knows, first and foremost, he wants to stay with the coven for as long as possible. He’s happy here. He also doesn’t want Noctis to be drawn into the war between the clans. That sounds like it’d be bad for humans and vampires alike and, besides, the whole thing seems to break Noctis’ heart and Prompto can’t stand that.

But does Prompto want to be a vampire?

Being sixteen forever doesn’t sound amazing but Noctis copes pretty well. Not having to worry about human things like school or stuff sounds kind of refreshing but Prompto was just starting to get excited about them again. He could maybe go to college, he could maybe meet a girl and start a family, all that is true. Some part of him does want to grow up, that’s true. But whose to say he couldn’t do all those things and more as a vampire? Sure he could never be a Rockstar or whatever but he could have adventures and stuff. It would just be different.

Prompto doesn’t want to see anyone from high school ever again. He doesn’t want to see his parents ever again either. He could give them a second chance but that’s naive. He gave them a thousand chances and they hurt him at every turn. He ran away from them. Being homeless was better than living with them. Prompto’s not going to fall into the trap of caring about them again. Not again.

Prompto would take more time to think about it, to weigh the options, but they don’t have the luxury of time. In three days Ardyn will come and try and make the choice for them. Logically? Prompto should become a vampire. Maybe that’ll be hard but it can’t be much worse than what he’s already lived through. Besides, on the other side of being a vampire? There’s a whole lifetime with Noctis’ coven. He’d really be one of them.

The final choice is a mere technicality.

Does he let Ardyn bite him or Noctis?

Dragging Noctis into vampire politics does sound dangerous but it’s a challenge Noctis seems comfortable to face together. If that’s the choice? Prompto would rather Noctis turns him, hands down. Noctis is his friend. Prompto feels safe with him. Prompto wants to be tied to him, be close to him, in the long term. He doesn’t want to share this seemingly really important connection with an unnerving stranger.

Prompto waits till they curl in bed for the night.

He rolls into Noctis, nuzzling their noses tenderly. Noctis nestles against him, cool but still childish in that strange way, and Prompto murmurs;

“I want you to turn me.”

Noctis’ eyes flicker open, reflective in the darkness, shiny.

“You’re sure?” Noctis murmurs.

Prompto nods gently into the soft sheets of the master bed.

“Okay,” Noctis whispers. “I’ll turn you.”

“Now?” Prompto supposes.

“Definitely not,” Noctis snorts, gently amused. “We’ll wait till tomorrow night. Daylight is going to be hard on you for a while and we’re going to need to lay down a tarp.”

“A tarp?” Prompto blinks.

“Unless you want to do it outside?” Noctis hums. “You’re…. you’re going to _expel_ a lot of bodily fluids.”

“Huh? _Oh_ …” Prompto computes.

He has heard people shit themselves when they die. He guesses vampirism is as much gruesome as glamorous.

“What’s more comfortable?” Prompto ponders.

“Depends on the person,” Noctis shrugs, “but I think you’ll be more comfortable outside.”

“Okay, outside then!” Prompto chirps.

“Tomorrow night,” Noctis assures, “sleep for now?”

Prompto tries but when someone says they’re going to turn you into a vampire its surprisingly hard to nod off.

In the morning Ignis and Gladio seem to already know about the plan. Ignis says Prompto can have whatever he wants for breakfast.

“Will food taste different when I’m a vampire?” Prompto wonders.

“Yes,” Ignis nods. “Not bad, not necessarily, but different.”

“Pancakes? Please?” Prompto asks.

“Of course, darling.” Ignis strokes back his hair.

“Wonder what it’ll take like?” Gladio hums over the newspaper. “Apparently Iggy was an insufferable human.”

“Maybe I’ll get all butch and tough?” Prompto supposes, grinning.

“Ha! Maybe,” Gladio concedes. “I can’t quite picture it but weirder things, right?”

“Gladio was a brute before I turned him,” Noctis snorts, playing on his phone. “He couldn’t even write his own name.”

“Really?” Prompto glances.

“Yeah,” Gladio nods sheepishly.

“Now Gladio writes whole bookshelves.” Noctis smirks.

“Huh?” Prompto frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Gladio grunts, pointedly scowling at Noctis.

“Gladio is a published author,” Ignis tuts from the stove.

“Iggy!” Gladio groans, betrayed. “Shut up!”

“Really?” Prompto perks. “That’s awesome! What do you write?”

“Lewd bodice ripper erotica.” Noctis smirks when Gladio hesitates.

“Noctis!” Gladio growls.

“ _Seriously…?_ ” Prompto tries not to giggle.

“We’ve got all his books, meticulously catalogued, in the library if you’re interested.” Ignis adds.

“I very much am,” Prompto grins, still on the edge of laughter.

“Ugh…” Gladio grumbles, hiding behind his newspaper. “For the record? Ignis invented the potato chip.”

Ignis almost drops the frying pan.

“ _Gladiolus!_ ” Ignis fumbles, sounding somewhere between frantically embarrassed and enraged.

“Oh my god! Did you really, Iggy?” Prompto whips around.

“Noctis was hassling me.” Ignis grumbles. “Not my grandest moment. I much prefer the healthier—”

“Potato chip was the pinnacle of Ignis cooking.” Noctis maintains.

“Ugh…” Ignis despairs.

Prompto snickers.

* * *

Prompto watches the sun set on last time with mortal eyes.

They’ve hiked further into the woods and Gladio puts him on his shoulders so he can watch it disappear over the horizon.

Ignis has a bag with clean, soft, clothes and Gladio and Ignis linger back while Noctis walks Prompto further into the grove.

When they find a grassy little spot Noctis sits him down in the fading light. Prompto’s hands fumble a little, his eyes not as good as Noctis’, but he finds his spot eventually.

“Are you scared?” Noctis asks.

“A little…?” Prompto confesses.

“Me too,” Noctis admits sheepishly.

“You?” Prompto laughs.

“I’ve only done this four times,” Noctis reminds. “Considering how long I’ve been alive that’s a pretty low batting average.”

“Do you think I’ll be a good vampire?” Prompto murmurs. “It won’t… make me weird…?”

“You’ve got a good heart, Prom.” Noctis promises. “Just hold onto it. Vampirism changes things but you’re still in control of your own destiny.”

“Right,” Prompto nods tensely, trying to fathom how he’ll even do that.

“Try and stay awake as long as you can, okay?” Noctis urges.

“Okay.” Prompto nods, voice smaller this time.

Noctis has fed on him plenty of times and Prompto has always felt safe but this is different. Prompto has a feeling Noctis is going to take a hell of a lot more this time. Noctis lies them down on the grass, snuggled up together, and butting against his neck Noctis nuzzles there until Prompto starts to relax just a fraction. He’s tense, no escaping that, but he trusts Noctis. He’s just afraid. Dying is a human instinct and fearing it is natural, right?

Noctis’ teeth, familiar, break skin and Prompto feels that wonderfully heady sensation of Noctis sucking. He closes his eyes, enjoys it, but Noctis doesn’t stop this time and the heady, gooey, feeling Prompto is used to starts to feel like a suffocating wave of cotton wool. He starts to squirm, tries to move, but Noctis holds him close and refuses to let go.

This isn’t a nip, a taste test. Noctis is devouring him. Noctis is _killing him_.

Prompto’s dizzily firing brain starts to panic.

He’s going to die.

He’s just a kid and, no matter what his higher brain might say, he’s afraid of dying.

But he can’t do anything and he starts to gasp, choked, the world splintering in and out of focus in big black splotches.

Noctis has to be done, surely? Isn’t that enough? Prompto can feel his body shutting down around him, creeping closer to the precipice, and he’s going to black out and die and—

Noctis whips his head back, gasping, and heaves, hot at lava, against Prompto.

Prompto can’t keep his eyes open, he’s swimming. He wants to throw up but he can’t move. Everything feels like its made of solid lead.

He’s dying.

 _He’s dying_.

Noctis does something, Prompto hears him growling, and then Noctis' wet wrist is against Prompto’s drooling mouth. It takes a second, Noctis rubbing the bleeding wound against his mouth, but Prompto gets a drop on his tongue and—

Prompto’s body lurches with a sudden, desperate, thirst.

Prompto’s hands fumble up, blindly groping, and he clutches Noctis’ wrist against his mouth. He starts to suck in earnest, gulping every little bit he can get. Noctis tastes like sparks, like bubbles, and its all consuming and _good_.

Prompto feels his strength surge back, cloying adrenaline, and then Noctis yanks his hand away.

Prompto falls back, gasping, but even with Noctis blood hitting his stomach and slithering through his cells he can feel his heart starting to stall. Breathing is hard, he can’t get air, he can’t—

He chokes, he gasps, drowning—

Then he stops.

Prompto isn’t sure how long he’s gone for.

How long he’s _dead_ for.

He’s not aware of it. He’s not aware of his human body dying. Noctis blood moves through his cooling cells like a parasite, chewing and morphing, and as the infection takes his corpse like a fungus eating through a sheet Prompto is gone.

When its in every cell- his brain goop, his heart muscle- there is a sudden, quickening, lurch of fire and Prompto’s body spasms like it’s been electrocuted.

Prompto lurches up, gasping, and all at once….

He’s back.

Prompto takes gulping mouthfuls of air but he finds his lungs aren’t distressed anymore. He’s just feeling residual panic. The echo of his human systems creeps away and his breathing steadies.

Prompto stills, sitting on the grass.

He can feel his heart beating, his brain churning…

His body starts to clench with an overwhelming queasiness.

Prompto knows he’s already evacuated his guts. His clothes are ruined. But there’s more in him and rolling over Prompto gags and retches onto the grass spewing up the last, decaying, residues of his human body. Gunk spills out of him and all he can think about is emptying it all, getting it all out…

His body starts to feel better slowly. Once he spits up the last chunk of bile he feels that relief that he used to get after throwing up.

He sits back up, blinking slowly.

Everything’s….

Prompto feels like he might’ve been blind his whole life.

Everything is in glorious HD technicolor.

He can see every bug in the grass, hear every sigh and simper of the world around him…

His eyes trace up to the full glory of the moon and it doesn’t hurt, it’s just beautifully overwhelming.

“Prompto?”

Prompto blinks, brain still clinking together, and turns.

Noctis.

Noctis looks…

Prompto always thought Noctis was beautiful but this is obscene. When Prompto was human Noctis was too symmetrical, too gorgeous, and it was unsettling but now…? He almost seems to _glow_. He’s radiant and splendid and _perfect_. 

Prompto feels like he might cry.

“Hey,” Noctis smiles, cupping his cheek gently. “How do you feel?”

“I…” Prompto feels the rumble of his own voice in his throat and it almost distracts him. Everything is in such crisp, perfect, detail. “I’m _thirsty_ …”

As Prompto says it his body seems to catch up with the sensation in his throat, the ache.

He feels so, so, thirsty.

“Let’s eat,” Noctis whispers.

Prompto doesn’t need much help to stand. His clumsiness seems to have evaporated. Noctis helps him strip his filthy human clothes but standing naked on the grass Prompto doesn’t feel cold. He just feels thirsty.

Noctis takes his hand.

“Do you hear the deer, Prom?” Noctis murmurs.

Prompto hesitates but then he actually listens.

“Yeah,” he realises, “I do…?”

“Go get it Prom.” Noctis urges. “You’ll feel better.”

Prompto’s so thirsty he doesn’t worry about getting lost in the woods. He just takes off. He’s so aware of everything now and that includes his body. He feels a lightness and strength inside him. Every motion comes easier. The deer is slow, mortal. It hesitates and lurches and Prompto is barely aware of how effortlessly he tackles it into the grass.

He doesn’t hesitate when he digs his teeth into it. He doesn’t think about it long enough to hesitate. He just knows there’s gobs of bubbling, bursting, blood hitting his tongue and sliding down his gullet and its such a _relief_.

The deer doesn’t taste as good as Noctis but Prompto sits back feeling sated for now.

The edge of the hunger itches at him still but the screaming is softer. His head feels clear. He can settle. Easing up he listens and realises he can hear Ignis and Gladio back a little ways. He heads towards them on instinct.

“Hey blondie,” Gladio catches him as he tumbles out of the trees. “Hey, it’s okay…” Gladio wraps him up in those big arms and Prompto sags. Gladio feels much warmer now. Now their core body temps are more alike Prompto can feel the subtle warmth in his muscles.

Prompto nestles down.

Gladio is family.

Gladio is safe.

“Prompto,” Ignis’ voice drifts into his awareness. “Would you like to go home? We can clean you off, darling.”

“Yeah.” Prompto murmurs.

“Do you want something to wear for now?” Ignis offers.

“No, thank you,” Prompto shakes his head softly. He’s fine. He’s not cold and nothing feels rough or abrasive. His skin can take the tension of the dirt and gravel and grass. Besides, it feels silly to be embarrassed right now. It’s just his body and his body feels so light and glittery he can’t imagine being embarrassed by it in front of the others.

“Hey, cutie,” Gladio whispers into Prompto’s hair. “Race you home?” 

Prompto laughs, smile cracking his features.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Please?”

Gladio releases him gently and they both take off through the trees.

Prompto reaches the house first, light footed, and skitters into the lounge. The lights are off but Prompto finds he doesn’t need them to see clearly. He doesn’t bother to turn them on distracted by Gladio landing on the patio behind him.

The shower is a strange sensation. Every pinprick of water skitters over his skin delightfully and Prompto preens there for a long time. All his human scars are gone and his skin is marble smooth. His freckles have held on somehow but they seem…. Prettier somehow?


	4. Chapter 4

Prompto realises very quickly that he doesn’t feel tired anymore. That ache to sleep? It just doesn’t come. He insists on watching the sun rise but everything is so intense that that proves painful. Prompto persists for as long as he’s able but eventually he has to retreat into the house and Ignis pulls the blinds a little to lessen the extremity of how crystal clear everything is in daylight. It’s not unbearable it’s just uncomfortable. Prompto can survive the sunlight but the night is much better suited to his current needs.

“Hey,” Noctis greets, joining him on the couch.

“Hey,” Prompto smiles, slumping fearlessly into Noctis’ side.

“How do you feel?” Noctis asks, reaching back to stroke his cheek.

“Floaty,” Prompto tries to articulate. “It’s…. it’s nice.”

“Are you mad at me?” Noctis murmurs, hesitating.

“Huh?” Prompto lifts his head. “Why would I be mad at you? You're the _best_. You made me _family_.”

"Also killed you." Noctis reminds.

"Minor technicality," Prompto dismisses with a flick of the wrist. 

Noctis snorts, eyes achingly fond. “Looks like you’re still you.”

Prompto smiles, slumping their foreheads together, and Noctis nuzzles into him tenderly.

“I get to stay with you guys forever,” Prompto preens, all aglow.

“As long as you want,” Noctis promises.

“Can we go into town?” Prompto asks, caught up in a wave of excitement.

“Maybe not just yet,” Noctis laughs. “Town has humans, Prom. I don’t think you can convincingly act normal right now and your thirst might distract you. Give it a little while, okay?”

“But Noct—” He laughs, stalling.

Prompto lifts his head.

He can hear some things running up the mountain, fast and musky smelling.

“Is that…?”

“Other vampires,” Noctis nods.

“You already heard them?” Prompto supposes.

“I heard them half an hour ago.” Noctis smiles.

“Is it Ardyn or…?”

“No, you’ll know Ardyn when you smell him.” Noctis promises.

The vampires sag into tense saunters when they reach the front yard.

They both came from slightly different directions and Prompto can somehow tell they don’t know each other.

Ignis answers the door.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” He drawls.

Prompto can hear everything as if the conversation was happening right by his ear.

“His Grace—” the first vampire commences.

“His _Highness_ ,” the second vampire interrupts pointedly, “would like to request an audience with his Majesty to meet the fledgling. As is his right per the tradition of blood kin.”

“Yes, well,” Ignis snorts. “If you’ll wait a moment, gentlemen.”

Ignis shuts the front door.

“Noctis?” He calls, voice no louder but still crystal clear.

“Tell Regis’ man I intend to meet with him,” Noctis announces, “and tell Ardyn’s man they’ll be invited to the debutante ball same as everyone else.”

The vampire on the porch, the saucy one, audibly huffs.

Ignis opens the front door.

They can all hear each other, plain as day, but evidently rank and tradition denies the messengers the privilege of speaking directly with Noctis.

Ignis relays his commands.

“Our card.” The prissy vampire declares, thrusting it at Ignis. “Your Highness.”

“Our card, your Highness,” the chill vampire adds, sounding discernibly smug at the turn of events.

“Thank you gentlemen,” Ignis nods, closing the door.

Prompto waits till he can’t hear them anymore on the mountain to laugh softly.

“So…” Prompto runs a hand through his hair, “do I have a rank now?”

“Absolutely,” Ignis chuckles, sweeping into the lounge to hand Noctis the business cards.

Because evidently vampires have business cards.

“Noctis is ‘ _his Majesty_ ’ or _‘Graven_ ’ or ‘ _The First_ ’.” Ignis explains. “Regis is ‘ _Chief Sire_ ’ of his clan but he is a _‘your Grace_ ’ as technically he’s a grandchild of Noctis’. Ardyn is a _‘your Highness_ ’, as a vampire sired directly by Noctis, or _‘The Second_ ’ after his birth order.”

“So then I’m a _Highness?_ ” Prompto supposes.

“Yes, and you’re ‘ _The Fifth_ ’.” Ignis nods.

“You and Gladio are Highnesses too!” Prompto chirps.

“Yes,” Ignis smiles. “Noctis?”

“We have to present Prompto to the clans, we can’t avoid that,” Noctis hums thoughtfully. “But I’m thinking up a plan to hopefully manage the power balance as it currently stands.”

“You want to plan the debutante ball with Regis?”

“I’m entitled to do that,” Noctis nods. “Ardyn could take that as a slight considering his Mate’s blood claim to Prompto but we can use this to our advantage.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Ignis nods. “Are you going to call him now?”

“I think I will,” Noctis nods. “Get Gladio to shower off? I know he’s almost done his work out and I suspect we’ll be driving to meet Regis.”

“Well, we can’t exactly entertain a thousand or more vampires here.” Ignis snorts.

“That many?” Prompto wheezes.

“You must understand, Prom,” Ignis glances, “Noctis has been a recluse for a long time. People will be fighting to see him and your presentation is a very impactful event. Everyone who’s anyone will want to attend.”

“That’s going to be a shit show,” Prompto murmurs.

“An absolute shit typhoon.” Noctis hums in agreement, typing Regis’ number into his phone.

* * *

Regis, his retainers and his clan have been holding court in Seattle in an effort to remain close to Noctis especially while Ardyn is in the Americas. Ignis drives the four of them from their home near the US-Canadian border into inner Seattle.

Prompto finds the car ride comfortable and distracting in a million different ways. He can smell so many things on the wind and he can hear every click of the engine which goes some way to explain why Ignis can drive so fast without ever being startled or thrown by a sudden obstacle. Given Ignis’ speed it doesn’t take very long for them to reach the city either.

Regis has assumed control of an entire sky-scrapper within the inner city and put up his clan within it. They park under the building and are escorted, with every nicety and salutation, up to the penthouse where Regis is waiting for them with some familiar faces.

“Noctis,” Regis rises to greet them, flanked by his retainers.

“Sit Regis,” Noctis orders. “I don’t need you to grovel.”

“I am so glad to see you,” Regis sinks down all the same with the help of his bald companion Clarus. “Our last meeting was not so fortuitous but I heard Ardyn visited you? And I see your human is now one of us?”

“Yes, well, Ardyn proved more annoying than even you.” Noctis huffs as he and the coven are settled into comfortable lounge seats.

“Then you’ll help us?” Regis supposes hopefully.

“I will do nothing of the sort,” Noctis reiterates, “but I will help you establish a truce. Is that agreeable?”

“If it means Ardyn leaves the New World?” Regis supposes. “I’ll kiss his ass myself. I don’t have the forces to obliterate him outright at this time. An all-out battle would prove disastrous for my clan.”

“Good,” Noctis nods. “Prompto needs to be presented and as Ardyn’s Mate has a blood claim on Prompto he has to be invited. That said? I want to organise the debutante ball with you and yours.”

“A blood claim?” Regis frowns.

“Ardyn’s current Mate, Verstael, is Prompto’s direct ancestor.” Noctis explains. “It’s a mortal blood connection but it still has to be respected according to the bylaws.”

“Troublesome,” Regis murmurs. “How do you suppose this will help us?”

“You’re going to get me Gilgamesh.” Noctis announces.

“Noctis, with all due respect,” Regis laughs fretfully, “I haven’t been able to get Gilgamesh to come out of mourning for thousands of years. If I knew how to do that he’d already be here.”

“We need him,” Noctis insists. “This ridiculous war was all started when Somnus killed Ardyn’s first Mate. Gilgamesh was Somnus’ Mate. Prompto can formally introduce Gilgamesh and Verstael. Gilgamesh can extend an olive branch to Verstael in that moment. It won’t end the war but if Ardyn disregards that attempt to make peace? In front of an audience of a thousand vampires? He’ll lose support from his own ranks.”

“Noctis, be reasonable,” Regis replies, “Ardyn has kept his current Mate sequestered beyond legendary defences since he was turned. We don’t even have reason to believe this Verstael isn’t still safe in the Old World. How can we be sure he’ll even attend the presentation?”

“Because I’m going to invite him, as Prompto’s blood ancestor, not Ardyn himself.” Noctis declares. “If Ardyn wants to attend as Verstael’s plus one? He’s welcome. But Verstael is the one with the blood claim. He’s technically the only one I have to invite.”

Regis looks weary, uneasy even, like he’s not convinced.

“I still don’t know,” he admits. “This hinges on several things, mainly Gilgamesh, and I’ve never had any luck getting him to cooperate. He’s so deep in his mourning that… Well, I’m running the clan!” Regis laughs exasperatedly.

“Do you know where he is?” Noctis presses.

“I have some idea, yes,” Regis nods, “but I don’t see how—”

“I’ll go talk to him.” Noctis declares. “You prepare the debutante ball for seven day’s time and I will get Gilgamesh.”

“If you’re certain,” Regis permits, “but what if you can’t? What then?”

“ _I will._ ” Noctis maintains.

Regis nods cautiously.

“Will any of your coven be staying with us in the meantime?”

“No, they stay with me.”

“Well, if you’re determined…” Regis sighs. “Gilgamesh is currently somewhere in the Mojave Desert.”

“That…” Prompto laughs. “That’s a needle in a haystack, Noct. One vampire? In all that?”

“We’ll find him.” Noctis is certain.

Prompto glances to Ignis and Gladio who look about as certain as Prompto feels.

* * *

The drive is long, even with Ignis driving. From Seattle to Mojave they’re staring down the barrel of like twenty-four hours solid driving. Sure, Ignis doesn’t need to sleep but the car will run out of fuel at some point and Prompto’s thirst itches at him so Prompto suspects they’ll have to stop to hunt at some point too.

The first thing Noctis does in the car, as they pull out of Seattle, is call Ardyn. Prompto rests his head on Noctis’ shoulder in the backseat, keen to listen in, and crosses his fingers in his lap for good luck.

“Ardyn,” Noctis greets, slumped in the backseat but still discernibly tense under Prompto.

“Starlight!” Ardyn cheers. “How are we?”

“Well,” Noctis drawls, “I was hoping to invite Verstael to Prompto’s debutante ball, can I get his number?”

“Don’t I get an invitation?” Ardyn does that thing where he sounds playfully heartbroken.

“You’re not his blood kin,” Noctis reminds, “but you’re welcome to come as Verstael’s plus one.”

“I see…” Ardyn hums softly. “You know, Starlight, Verstael is almost as reclusive as you. Perhaps I should—”

“Oh but he’ll want to meet Prompto,” Noctis insists. “Prompto’s _family_. And if Verstael doesn’t come you have no connection to Prompto so…”

There is a brief, tense, pause where Ardyn seems to be stewing.

“And where are we throwing this wonderful party?” Ardyn supposes.

“Call Regis for the details,” Noctis invites. “I’m driving to pick up a present for the event so I don’t have the specifics on me.”

“You’re party planning with Regis?” Ardyn is grumbling now, tone sombre.

“I have a blood link to Regis, he’s family as much as you, but Regis lives here permanently. If we’re having the party in the New World I figured I should make use of Regis’ resources.”

“And you want me to bring my Mate, across the world, to a party Regis is throwing?”

“If anyone knows what’s good for them there won’t be any fighting.” Noctis assures.

“Noctis, darling,” Ardyn snorts, “surely—”

“Those are your options, Ardyn.” Noctis replies curtly. “I am personally inviting Verstael. If you and he choose to come, that’s your choice. I’ve made as many allowances as I can.”

There’s another tense pause and Prompto thinks, just barely, he can hear Ardyn growling in the back of his throat, frustrated.

“Of course, Starlight,” he chimes charming but decidedly less playful now. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Hope to see you soon,” Noctis murmurs, suddenly discernibly gentler than Prompto’s ever heard him be.

Ardyn pauses for a long moment.

“Same to you, darling.” He promises seriously before hanging up.

Prompto sits still for a moment, thinking.

“You really do want everyone to stop fighting, don’t you Noct?” He whispers.

“Yeah.” Noctis nods quietly. “I made Ardyn. I don’t want him to be hurting but I also don’t want him to terrorise everyone else.”

“Was he always like this?” Prompto wonders.

“No, not at all,” Noctis shakes his head. “He used to be the kindest man. He was sweet and gentle and… I hate seeing him like this.”

“What was Somnus like?” Prompto asks, curious to put it all together.

“Somnus was…” Noctis snorts. “He was a brat, honestly. He and Ardyn were mortal brothers before they were vampiric brothers. Somnus always got so jealous when Ardyn had something he couldn’t have too. It was his worst trait and vampirism only made it worse.”

“Did he want Ardyn’s Mate, is that why...?”

“I don’t know,” Noctis admits. “I don’t know what happened. They were alone and… I don’t know. It happened so fast. Somnus just kept saying; _I’m your brother, you can replace a woman_. Like it wasn’t a big deal. And it just… Something in Ardyn broke and I couldn’t hold him back. He just lost it.”

Prompto sags, torn by his own emotions.

“Surely it should’ve ended there?”

“You’d think,” Noctis snorts. “But lots of people loved Somnus and lots of other people think Ardyn was within his rights. Lots of vampires used to believe the highest sin was to kill one of your own. It’s softened to _‘one of your own clan_ ’ now but… Well, Somnus was too dead to punish so Ardyn got the brunt of it.”

“It’s just awful,” Prompto sags, “but we’ll fix it!”

“Yeah…?” Noctis laughs tiredly.

“Yeah,” Prompto nods certainly. “We’ll get Gilgamesh, we’ll make Ardyn bury the hatchet even just until his next scheme, and then you can be part of vampire society again without all this drama.”

“I hope so,” Noctis murmurs. “I’d really like that.”

* * *

They’re in California, in the early dawn, when Ignis pulls them into a truck stop.

“Prompto, darling,” Ignis murmurs. “You’ve got to have something to eat. You’ll be exerting yourself in the desert and you tire quickest as a newborn.”

“You think there are deer around here?” Prompto snorts, looking along the highway around them.

“Not exactly what Iggy means, Blondie,” Gladio warns gently.

“You--?” Prompto wavers. “ _A trucker?_ ”

“We don’t have the liberty to be picky.” Ignis murmurs.

“I don’t—That’s a person.” Prompto fumbles.

“A human,” Noctis corrects. “You’re not a human anymore.”

“That didn’t stop you guys being decent to me?” Prompto’s stomach back flips.

“You know how we feed Prompto, this can’t be a surprise.” Ignis tries to be reasonable.

“I can just…” Prompto let’s his eyes dart between them. “Just a little…? Like, not kill them?”

“You can try,” Ignis encourages.

“That kind of restraint is difficult, Prom.” Noctis tells him. “Don’t be surprised if you can’t help yourself.”

“I’ll come with you,” Gladio promises. “I’ll give you a hand. If you want?”

“Y-yeah, please?” Prompto murmurs.

Gladio gets out of the car with him and they linger in the almost dawn, milling around the trucks.

“They’ll probably be sleeping.” Gladio tells him. “But you’ll need to move fast. If they start screaming we’ll have to kill them and maybe others to get away safely.”

Prompto nods softly, stomach back flipping.

He didn’t think about this.

“You’ll be fine,” Gladio promises, walking him up to a truck cabin tucked back in the darkness away from the others. “Just trust your instincts.”

Prompto nods, climbing up the steps silently.

Under his deft, vampiric, finger the cabin passenger door opens silently and Prompto slips into he cabin. He sees the trucker, is ready to wrestle with himself, but then he gets a whiff of real, up close, human and—

Prompto’s been around vampires the past two days.

They don’t smell like food.

Prompto lunges before he can think about what he’s doing.

He’s on the human and latching down in hyper seconds, fast as a beast, and Prompto doesn’t think. He feels the human startle awake but by then Prompto’s teeth are in his neck and he can’t scream. He squirms a little, tries to kick, but even though the man is much bigger than him Prompto is much stronger now. He secures him effortlessly and feeds.

Human tastes good.

Way better than deer.

Not as good as Noctis, of course, but Prompto’s starting to think nothing tastes as good as Noctis.

Prompto doesn’t think about stopping, about just taking a little. In the moment he’s so hungry, so thirsty, that he just sucks and sucks heedlessly till he can’t drain anything else out of the body under him.

When Prompto sits back, sated by his full belly, the human is a corpse.

Prompto didn’t….

He wanted to stop, before he opened the cabin door, but in the moment he was just so….

Prompto takes a deep breath, trembling.

“Prom?” Gladio murmurs behind him, up on the step.

“I…” Prompto exhales thickly. It tasted so good but… it was a person. Prompto was a person not so long ago.

“I know, it’s rough.” Gladio agrees. “But you’ve got to eat. In the old days everyone killed to eat, to not starve. You forget, in this century, that your food used to be alive once but… this is part of nature, Prom.”

“Right…” Prompto whispers, kind of dazed.

“Wish him better luck in the next life, say it wasn’t personal, and walk away.” Gladio encourages.

Prompto hesitates but, when Gladio steps back for a moment, Prompto leans over the body.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry…”

Prompto climbs out of the truck feeling kind of shell shocked but Gladio closes the passenger door behind him and briskly walks him back towards the car. Gladio loads him in the back seat, Noctis pulls him close, and Prompto tries not to think about it.

He’s got to survive.

He’s got to do what he’s got to do.

He did some things he didn’t like when he was homeless, stole and stuff, and this is different but… in the grand scheme of things? This is part of Prompto’s choice. No point crying now.

“You okay?” Noctis whispers.

“Y-yeah,” Prompto lies, “I’m fine.”

* * *

They hit Mojave in the early afternoon, parking in a lot at the edge of the rocky sand.

“It’s stinking hot…” Gladio groans, stripping off his shirt and chucking it back in the car.

“Get used to it.” Noctis grunts. “We’re walking for a while.”

“What’s the plan exactly?” Ignis asks.

“I can track him, if I just get a whiff of him,” Noctis rues.

“Yes, but even you can’t track across forty-eight thousand square miles using just your nose.” Ignis grunts. “We need to narrow it down.”

“Well, he’s mourning, right?” Prompto supposes. “He’ll want to be alone so… maybe further out? Where humans can’t reach easy?”

“Not an unreasonable idea…” Ignis sighs.

“He can’t endure this heat ceaselessly either.” Noctis murmurs. “It’d make him too thirsty. He’ll need a rock formation or somewhere he can roost out away from the humans.”

Gladio unpacks the tourist map and they start pouring over hiking trails and so on.

Eventually they have a direction and they start walking towards their best guess.

When they’re well out of sight of humans they start moving at more comfortable speeds, darting, but the heat is awful and the sunlight isn’t helping Prompto’s focus but as the sun starts to go down things become decidedly more comfortable.

Noctis shows his age out here. He moves quicker and tires slower than his much younger companions. Prompto does better than any human could but he’s starting to feel thirsty again already from the exertion.

“Here Prom,” Ignis grunts, handing him a bottle of water. “It’s not the same, but it will help a little.”

“Thanks Iggy,” Prompto sags, pausing to sip.

It’s definitely not blood but it does trick Prompto’s body into enduring a little longer.

“Any idea if we’re headed in the right direction?” Gladio asks.

“Yeah, I can smell him now,” Noctis promises, sniffing the air. “Just a little further.”

Eventually they hit a rocky outcrop, under the moon, and Noctis starts sniffing again.

Noctis starts to climb a shelf of rock, pulling himself up the outcrop, and groaning Prompto follows after him with a little help from Gladio. Lifting his whole body weight isn’t hard for Prompto anymore but he’s tired.

“Gilgamesh!” Noctis calls. “It’s just me! Come and face me!”

For a moment there’s nothing and Prompto can’t hear or smell anything either.

“Gilgamesh!” Noctis calls again, sterner this time. “Your King compels you to present yourself!”

A flourish, a little sound, and then they have company.

Gilgamesh is about as big as Gladio but he’s obscured his face in some kind of grotesque scrap metal mask like he doesn’t want to be seen.

Prompto hangs back, feeling Gladio secure an arm around him.

“To what do I owe this visitation First of Many?” Gilgamesh grunts, sounding tired.

“I need you to come with me,” Noctis answers. “We need to put a stop to this fighting.”

“I do not care what happens in the world out there,” Gilgamesh dismisses. “Leave me alone with my despair.”

“Somnus has been dead for a long time.” Noctis murmurs.

“He is a second away, in my mind,” Gilgamesh snaps. “Out here I can almost feel him.”

“You can feel him with his descendants.” Noctis returns, just as sharply. “His descendants who are _dying_. Do you want his line to fade away?”

“No, of course not…” Gilgamesh murmurs, sagging slightly. “But they can’t bring him back.”

“No, they can’t,” Noctis concedes, “but you can help them prosper by helping me end the bloodshed with Ardyn.”

“And what would you have me do? Hmm?”

“Come meet with him on fair ground and bury the hatchet.”

“I will not apologise to that brute!” Gilgamesh snaps. “He killed my Mate!”

“I know,” Noctis promises, “I know it hurts. I’m sure you can imagine the pain Ardyn was in when Somnus did the same, can’t you?” 

“That is not the point!” Gilgamesh booms. “I will not apologise to him!”

“Then don’t apologise to him,” Noctis offers, “but offer kindness to his new Mate. Express your want for peace, for harmony. You don’t have to validate what he did but you can help everyone move forward. You represented Somnus for a long time. It would mean a lot to everyone if you did this.”

Gilgamesh seems to consider it for a long moment.

Noctis waits.

“I…” Gilgamesh wavers. “I am not equipped to face the world of men again. I am no use to you.”

“Not equipped or not willing to try?” Noctis snaps.

Gilgamesh slumps, sinking to his knees, facing away from them.

“I cannot look that man in the face again,” Gilgamesh groans, “to see he is alive and Somnus is not…”

Noctis gathers up his hands, curling them into fists, but Gladio puts a hand on his shoulder gently and pushes past.

“Listen, hey, name’s Gladiolus.” He introduces, offering his hand to the downed Gilgamesh.

The vampire ignores him.

“Look,” Gladio crouches beside him. “I didn’t know Somnus, didn’t have the chance, but he’s got a lot of descendants and I’m sure they’d love to know more about him. You knew him, you could tell them all sorts of stuff, guide them. If they die out so does part of Somnus, right?”

“Perhaps…” Gilgamesh murmurs weakly, glancing just slightly.

“They’d help you,” Gladio assures. “They’re your family. They’ll show you how to handle this new century. You just have to let them help.”

Gilgamesh is looking at Gladio properly now.

“And, look, I don’t much like Ardyn either myself.” Gladio confesses. “But this is a great chance to put him back in his box. You can show you’re the bigger man and, if he throws that in your face? Well everyone will see what a sack of shit he is. Be the bigger man, for Somnus. Be better than Ardyn. Show everyone he’s punishing people for things they didn’t do and he should be ashamed of himself.”

“I can’t imagine how anyone would Mate with that monstrosity,” Gilgamesh grunts tensely.

“Nah, me neither,” Gladio agrees, “but Ardyn’s current Mate didn’t do anything wrong either. They’re like you, just guilty of loving someone. Wish em good luck, they’ll need it if they’re mated to Arydn, right?”

Gilgamesh snorts, kind of amused.

“I will help you, Gladiolus.” Gilgamesh decides. “If you think it is wise.”

“Let’s get you to Seattle.” Gladio smiles, patting his shoulder and standing up to offer his hand to the older vampire.

Noctis exhales, clearly relieved, and Prompto thinks they’re all somewhere between mystified and delighted.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is the end of the arc. The plot we've been working on. But someone, who is a deviant, gave me MORE ideas so I've written another 10k that is still un-posted and yet unfinished. SO EXPECT EVEN MORE IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS. 
> 
> *cough* Blame WhiteBirdy *cough*

The walk back is long. When Prompto stumbles Gilgamesh announces;

“He is your fledgling, First of Many?”

“Yeah, just turned.” Noctis nods.

“He is doing well,” Gilgamesh praises, “if it is acceptable to you I can carry him? We are old enough to bear up under such stresses but your other fledglings are not much older.”

“Well…” Noctis laughs, “is that okay Prom?”

“Oh my god, _please,_ ” Prompto wheezes.

“Come here fledgling,” Gilgamesh directs, hefting Prompto up into the most metal piggy back ever.

Prompto sags against him, face buried in the back of his neck, and Gilgamesh moves so effortlessly Prompto suddenly can’t wait till he’s an old, powerful, vampire.

When they reach the car the sun is rising again.

“We should hunt, all of us,” Ignis supposes. “I cannot imagine when you last ate, Gilgamesh, and Noctis it’s been several days since you ate either. Not to mention Gladio, Prompto and I have exerted ourselves beyond our age. We need to eat.”

“Agreed.” Noctis nods. “You three stay here with the car. Gilgamesh, will you help me catch the young ones something to eat?”

“Of course,” Gilgamesh agrees, helping Prompto onto his feet.

“I’ll show you some of the pitfalls of hunting in this century,” Noctis promises, taking Gilgamesh’s hand warmly. “We haven’t hunted together since… God, I don’t even remember, do you?”

“Humans were not writing down their history yet,” Gilgamesh supplies. “I was a fledgling myself.”

“Well you’re a lot bigger now,” Noctis laughs. “Come on.”

Prompto smiles, letting Ignis direct him into the car.

Ignis gives them bottled water and turns up the air conditioning but they’re all tired.

“Good job Gladio,” Ignis laughs, shoving the big bruiser fondly.

“Eh, just put myself in his shoes, ya know?” Gladio shrugs. “Noctis cares a lot but he also cares about Ardyn too much to talk shit. Seemed like Gilgamesh needed someone closer to his side.”

“Well, it certainly helped.” Ignis smiles.

“God, can you imagine if we did all that and he didn’t come back with us?” Prompto moans.

“I would’ve died,” Ignis assures.

“Step one complete!” Prompto cheers.

“Now we just have to get through this party,” Ignis exhales heavily. “I certainly hope you enjoy yourself Prompto but I suspect, with the multitude of guests in attendance, it’s going to be a spectacle.”

“I’m just hoping we get through it without any deaths,” Prompto admits. “I’ve been thinking about the whole _‘bring an end to vampire warfare’_ stuff way more than, like, my entrance to vampire society. Is this a thing a lot of covens do?”

“My understanding is most covens are interconnected,” Ignis slouches, “and making a new vampire is a special thing so presenting that new vampire to their wider community, even just extended family, is considered important. Few people do it on this scale however because most people aren’t turned by Noctis.”

“Do you guys wish you’d had one of these? You were in hiding and never had one, right?” Prompto supposes.

“Absolutely not,” Ignis scoffs.

“Couldn’t pay me to do one of these,” Gladio laughs. “Sounds way too fucking stressful.”

“But we are in for some adventure,” Ignis sighs. “Gladio and I will be matters of interest too. Even if this isn’t our debutante ball this is the first time many people will be meeting us and, in the grand scheme of things, we are of the same rank and social importance as you.”

“Triple whammy,” Prompto whistles.

“For some people, yes.” Ignis nods.

“I’m not looking forward to comporting myself like royalty,” Gladio snorts, “no wonder Noctis hates it so fucking much.”

“We’ll have to endure more regularly it seems,” Ignis remarks.

“Sorry for the hassle guys,” Prompto sighs, pawing at the back of his neck.

“Had to happen eventually, Prom,” Gladio assures. “Noctis might hate acting regal but he does want to be part of the community. Whenever this war ended he would’ve returned.”

“I find it kind of weird that, for the first vampire, Noctis is so… small?” Prompto admits. “He looks like a teenager, like me.”

“Looks like it, yes, but I suspect Noctis is well over six thousand years old. Maybe closer to ten.” Ignis replies.

“You think?”

“I do,” Ignis nods, “and I think, if you go back that far, it starts to make sense. Vampires are apex predators, yes, but we prey on humans. Humans have always been suspicious of big, strong looking, males they don’t know. Noctis, looking like a young boy, sneaks past some of that suspicion. Before civilisation looking young and vulnerable likely helped him get closer to his prey.”

“Huh…” Prompto computes. “I never thought of it like that but… that kind of makes sense. If I was in a tribe or whatever and some stranger showed up I certainly would be less worried if they were Noct’s size.”

“Humans want to protect their young, it’s an instinct,” Ignis elaborates further. “Cats and dogs evolved with certain traits because they were in such close quarters with humans. Cats learned if their cries sounded like infants then humans were more likely to feed them. I assume, in a similar way, Noctis got closer to settlements because he looked like someone who needed help.”

“Makes ya think…” Prompto murmurs, sipping his water.

“Maybe you and Noct are the superior vampire form when it comes to hunting,” Gladio teases, reaching back to ruffle Prompto’s hair.

Prompto laughs, shoving him, and spills a little water.

Noctis’ knuckles tap on the tinted glass of the car windows.

They clamour out of the car and find Noctis and Gilgamesh with a cooler.

Ignis learns down, uncaps the lid and—

“Where on earth did you find blood bags out here?” Ignis laughs, mystified.

“We found a cartel, organ traffickers.” Noctis grins. “They were delicious and they had this in the back.”

“Well just our luck!” Ignis grins, handing out blood bags.

Drinking blood out of a bag lands on the ‘yumminess’ scale somewhere above deer but under live caught trucker. It’s not the same as getting it out of a warm human but it is human blood so it does taste better and after the day they’ve had Prompto skulls it greedily.

“Take another Prompto,” Ignis urges, “you need more than the rest of us right now.”

“Thanks Iggy,” he murmurs, taking another bag.

“Back to Seattle then,” Noctis announces. “Iggy do you want to drive or would you like to rest?”

“If you don’t mind Noct, I would like to rest my eyes a little.” Ignis answers.

“No trouble.” Noctis assures. “Gilgamesh, you can sit in the front with me. Have you ever been in a car before?”

“I confess not, Grandsire.” Gilgamesh replies.

“Oh it’s great,” Noctis promises, “it’s like a carriage but they’re temperature controlled and way more water tight.”

“Fascinating…”

* * *

They make it to Seattle with maybe twelve hours to spare. Which isn’t a lot but it’s better than being late to his own debutante ball Prompto concedes.

Gilgamesh does not like the elevator but Gladio soothes him through it and when they step into Regis’ penthouse—

“ _Holy fuck,_ ” Nyx whispers, but they’re vampires so everyone in the room hears him.

“G-Gilgamesh!” Regis cries in delight, lurching up as best he can on his haggard leg.

“My kin,” Gilgamesh crosses the divide to help him hold his footing. “You are not well?”

“Too many fights,” Regis laughs, “but never mind me; you’re here!”

“Grandsire has some convincing fledglings,” Gilgamesh shrugs weakly.

“And you’ll do it? You’ll meet with Ardyn?” Regis supposes in awe.

“I will wish his Mate well,” Gilgamesh corrects. “Ardyn can do with that what he likes but I will say my peace.”

“And Ardyn, is he coming?” Noctis asks.

“Well he did contact us, Majesty,” Clarus answers, “we gave him the event details. He told us to make accommodations for his retinue of some sixty vampires.”

Prompto whistles. “That’s a butt load of vampires.”

“Where did you settle on?” Noctis presses. “I figure we don’t have much time.”

“We had our connections clear the humans out of Mount Rainier national park,” Regis answers readily. “All the arrangements have been made. You need only get ready.”

“Do you have somewhere we can--?” Noctis starts to ask.

“Oh Majesty, we’ve cleared out the penthouse for your use, of course.” Regis assures. “Nyx will manage the staff. If you need anything further please let him know.”

“I’m your man.” Nyx promises, flashing them a thumbs up.

“I figure you and Gilgamesh want to catch up, eh Regis?” Noctis smiles, shoulders sagging calmly.

“If you don’t mind?” Regis grins.

“Go nuts.” Noctis encourages. “I’m dying for a shower!”

“Right this way your Majesty,” a vampire surges forward eagerly.

“Back in fifteen guys!” Noctis promises.

They all take turns getting cleaned off, the penthouse has two bathrooms luckily, but Prompto loses sight of the others after his shower when he’s swept into a cleared bedroom to get dressed.

Prompto wheezes as the other vampires start laying out clothes and jewellery and—

“Is that for _me?_ ” He reels.

“Of course, Highness,” one answers. “Only the best for your special night.”

Prompto’s head is spinning but he lets the vampires help him into the elaborate finery. Its all beautifully made and its been designed within an inch of its life to be comfortable to creatures with enhanced senses. Prompto can tell this was made by vampires for vampires. Which is a crazy notion. There are vampire seamstresses? That’s nuts!

Prompto is letting them dry his hair and finish dressing him when Nyx slips into the bedroom with a little box.

“Hi,” Prompto greets.

“Highness,” Nyx nods. “How’s being vampire royalty shaping up for you?”

“Pretty weird, honestly,” Prompto laughs.

“Heh, it’s like that sometimes,” Nyx laughs, coming to present him with the little box. “This was made for you.”

“What is it?” Prompto asks.

“Our clan colours are purple, his Majesty’s clan colours are black; which is why you’re wearing quite a lot of it, but Ardyn’s clan colours are red. We thought, for effect, you should be wearing something small to honour you blood relation to his Mate since they’ll also be wearing red.”

“Oh that makes sense,” Prompto computes, unravelling the box.

It’s a beautiful pin. It looks like a boutonniere, like a sharp red flower, but it’s obviously made of fine metal work. It’ll take vampire tomfoolery and last longer than a night, that’s for sure. Prompto awes at it for a second then—

“Um, can you…?” Prompto glances up.

“Never worn one?” Nyx supposes.

“Nah, not really,” Prompto laughs.

“Comere,” Nyx invites him to stand, offering his hand.

Prompto finds his feet and Nyx bends a little to secure the pin on his chest.

“You really are just a kid, aren’t you?” Nyx meets his eyes briefly.

“Till about a week ago,” Prompto nods, “and it’s all happening really fast.”

“Well you seem to be doing pretty well so far,” Nyx encourages. “We haven’t been able to sort this shit out for centuries.”

“I just wanna be happy with my guys, ya know?” Prompto muses.

“Well, kid, if you can get us a few years of peace I’ll pay for you guys to take a vacation myself.” Nyx promises.

“Thanks,” Prompto smiles. “I… I’m kind of nervous about meeting this Verstael guy, if I’m honest. What if I mess it up?”

“You outrank him,” Nyx reminds coyly. “You ever heard that old saying? Do no harm but take no shit? Like that. You’ll be fine, Highness, look how well you manage with his Majesty every day.”

“I guess so…”

“However your head works? You’ve gotten this far. Don’t doubt your instincts now.”

“Right!” Prompto chirps with a little more certainty.

“Shall we go present you to your coven?” Nyx invites, offering his arm.

“Yes, please.”

“Your Highness,” Nyx bows his head, sweeping them into the main room again.

In the main room Gladio and Ignis are looking very, very, handsome.

Prompto whistles. “Knock em dead boys!”

Gladio laughs, eyes trailing over Prompto; “you scrub up pretty nice yourself, Blondie.”

“You do look lovely,” Ignis agrees. “For once we look like regular royals.”

“For the first and last time ever,” Prompto grins.

“Now, now, let’s not jump to conclusions.” Ignis tuts. “Noctis?” He calls. “Are you ready yet?”

“Ugh!” Noctis hisses. “This is ridiculous!”

“Come show us,” Ignis urges.

“Gods, alright…” Noctis groans.

Noctis emerges from the other bedroom looking….

Well, drop dead gorgeous.

Black, platinum, diamonds.

Noctis’ subtle glow is enhanced and he glitters and…

Prompto’s kind of stupefied.

“I feel strange,” Noctis mumbles. “Are you going to say anything?”

Evidently Ignis and Gladio are speechless too.

“You look _so good_ ,” Prompto murmurs breathlessly, “like… _wow._ ”

“Radiant,” Ignis agrees, voice very tight.

“Well now I just feel fucking cheap, thanks Noct,” Gladio teases, but even he sounds a little amazed.

“Let’s not make this a regular habit.” Noctis straightens himself a little. “You all look gorgeous. Are we feeling ready?”

“As ready as we’ll ever be, I suspect,” Ignis pushes his glasses up his nose.

“Well, we should get in the car then,” Noctis decides. “Nyx?”

“Yes Majesty?” Nyx appears readily.

“Can you get everything ready for us to leave?”

“Yes Majesty.” Nyx nods. “Just a moment.”

* * *

The Mount Rainier national park is about two hours out of Seattle. Prompto’s never been there but he supposes it kinds of makes sense vampires would party in the woods. Moonlight is way nicer on his senses than artificial light and where will a bunch of blood suckers party in the city without causing a crisis? Its’s just a disaster waiting to happen. Especially if there’s any fighting. This way they can snack on the wildlife, be real creatures of the night and do so as far away from humans as feasible right now.

“Are you nervous?” Prompto wonders, turning to Noctis in the car.

“I…” Noctis laces their fingers. “A little…? Last time I was part of the community we didn’t have all this stuff. It was way less formal. I knew everyone personally.”

“You’ll be just fine,” Prompto promises, kissing Noctis’ cheek gently.

“You ready?” Noctis squeezes his hand.

“As ready as I’m ever gonna be?” Prompto shrugs.

They park at the entrance to the park and head into the mountains on foot. It doesn’t take long on swift moving vampire feet. Prompto’s still getting used to exactly how high he can jump and how easily he can climb but Noctis leads the way.

Prompto can feel the thrum of vampires in the wilderness. There are no lights, nothing the human eye could detect, but they don’t need artificial light at all. They’re set up in an isolated clearing, beautiful but difficult for humans to reach, and they’ve brought some equipment but not a great deal.

There’s a lot of vampires, more than Prompto wants to count, and they’ve brought heaters and glasses for their stores of bagged blood. How much did it cost to get that much human blood? Is it illegal? Did they rob a hospital or make a deal with a cartel? How many homeless kids are missing tonight? Prompto tries not to think about it too hard.

Prompto can hear over a dozen conversations. There’s a lot of chatter about Noctis and his return, as you’d expect, but to Prompto’s embarrassment there’s more than a little chatter about who the fuck he is and what’s going on. Some folks have heard Gilgamesh is coming, which no one seems to believe, and Prompto can hear more than one grumble about how Ardyn shouldn’t be allowed to even show his face.

Noctis leads them into the clearing. He’s got one of Prompto’s hands, protective of the smallest, and Gladio and Ignis come up the rear tense and ready for anything.

This is going to be such a shit show…

Regis is waiting, with two glasses, beside what will serve as tonight’s throne. It’s made of assembled bits of lightning gnarled old forest wood. It’s old and proud, part of the earth, and it suits Noctis even if he’s not excited by it. As Noctis takes his seat, Regis offers him one glass of blood, and Prompto is presented with the other as tonight’s special guest.

Noctis seems to think for a second, weary, something of his age playing in his eyes. He appraises the assembly, seems to think about what all this means, seems to churn over the plan one last time, and raising his glass announces.

“To Prompto.”

There’s a cheer, more raised glasses, but everyone is very, very, careful not to start drinking until blood has hit Noctis’ lips first.

Prompto tips back his glass, skulls it for strength, but a shiver runs through him all the same.

“Is he here?” Noctis murmurs to Regis at his other side.

“Waiting, Majesty.” Regis assures.

“Then we just need Ardyn,” Noctis murmurs, sinking back with another fretful sip.

A lot of people could die tonight if this goes sour.

Prompto swallows.

The party starts and by the edge of the clearing a clutch of vampiric musicians start playing in a way Prompto imagines you can only achieve when you’ve been practicing with the same instrument for a hundred years straight. There’s no need for audio equipment, everyone can hear the music just fine, any louder would just be detrimental to conversation.

Prompto sticks close to Noctis, holding his hand tightly.

Everyone’s talking about them, Prompto knows, but not many are brave enough to approach outright. A few ladies ask Gladio and Ignis to dance and they consent for the most part but Prompto can hear in their tones they’re not particularly taken by any of their brave suitors. With Noctis looking so resplendent its hard to look at anyone else if you ask Prompto.

Regis is given a less grand seat nearby and he tries to stir a little conversation out of Noctis but Noctis’ mind is obviously elsewhere. Right now no one is brave enough to come to Noctis without someone to introduce them. Prompto starts to realise that, while Noctis is his friend, to a lot of these creatures Noctis is something they’ve only heard whispered about in stories and myths. They obviously don’t know his preference for string cheese or King’s Knight and, not for the first time, Prompto marvels at how Noctis manages to adjust to the modern world so totally.

There’s a shift, the wind changes, and Noctis sits a little straighter.

Prompto can’t hear, see or smell anything yet but Noctis’ senses are sharper than his and Prompto knows his expressions well enough now to assume he’s caught some sign of Ardyn approaching. 

In another few moments Prompto starts to pick up the movement too. Ardyn really is bringing a full retinue. They’re less chatty than Regis’ clan as they approach but they move with an obvious purpose. God, Prompto hopes none of them brought weapons.

Regis’ clan have started to chatter less, all of them senses the approach, and the music drawls on but Prompto can pick up a little tension in the violinist’s immortal fingers.

Prompto swallows as they start coming out of the trees.

Ardyn is well prepared for a formal event but Prompto doesn’t imagine any amount of fanciful clothing could stop him from going feral if he wanted to let lose. More promisingly? Ardyn’s got company on one arm and Prompto instantly recognises the face, his face. The resemblance between himself and Verstael is even more uncanny and eerie in person. Verstael was obviously an adult when he was turned, younger than Ardyn but several years older than baby Prompto, maybe mid-twenties? And he holds himself with this absolute certainty. Prompto gets the impression Verstael doesn’t like socialising just from the way he moves and the tilt of his head. He’s subtly expressive but maybe that’s just because Prompto knows how his own face looks under certain expressions?

Ardyn and Verstael come close enough to Noctis’ throne to bow their heads.

Noctis waits till then, till that show of respect, to rise.

“Troublemaker,” Noctis snorts, extending his hand.

Ardyn takes it, “Starlight.”

Verstael doesn’t wait to be presented, obviously too old to give a fuck if anyone approves of him or not, and offers his hand to Noctis likewise. “Majesty,” he greets.

Noctis takes his fingers without letting go of Ardyn’s, the three of them forming a kind of circle.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Noctis greets.

“The pleasure’s mine,” Verstael assures.

“Seems we’ve got another blood bond in common,” Noctis supposes. “Very exciting stuff.”

“Funny how the world works sometimes,” Verstael agrees. “May I?”

“Allow me,” Noctis releases them both, glancing back to beckon Prompto.

Prompto hands Gladio his glass and tries not to panic.

_Okay, you can do this Prompto._

_You can do this!_

Noctis reaches for him and Prompto takes his hand probably a little too tight.

“Verstael, my fledgling.” Noctis turns back. “Prompto, Ardyn’s Mate.”

“Eerie,” Verstael snorts, reaching out just enough to tip Prompto’s chin up a fraction. “Don’t you think?”

“Massively,” Prompto laughs breathlessly. “didn’t realise my blood went back so far.”

“Must’ve inherited all the old traits to find your way into such company,” Verstael supposes. “The change seems to have settled well. You look like vampirism agrees with you.”

“If anything Prompto just burns brighter,” Noctis grins. “And here I thought he couldn’t stay sweet.”

“People are surprisingly bizarre,” Ardyn hums. “Thank you for having us.”

“You’re family,” Noctis maintains.

“A dance then?” Ardyn grins.

“Well…” Noctis hesitates. “You know I hate dancing.”

“Not with me,” Ardyn counters. “Go on, let them get to know each other. You owe me one dance, surely?”

“Maybe just one,” Noctis relents, releasing Prompto’s hand gently.

Ardyn gives Verstael a look, a squeeze around the waist, and you can tell they’ve been mated for a long, _long_ , time and orchestrated a lot of schemes amongst other vampires because Prompto can tell they have whole conversations with just a look, a wince, a micro-expression…

Verstael nods, so subtle you could miss it, and Ardyn lets him go to take Noctis.

“Now then,” Verstael sighs, coming to stand beside Prompto so they can both watch the dancing. “Tell me all the gossip.”

“I think you better answer some questions first,” Prompto laughs sheepishly. “Have you really been watching my whole life?”

“Sort of,” Verstael shrugs. “My son wasn’t born until after I was turned. I’ve poured most of my immortal life into scientific discovery but I am quietly fascinated with what might’ve been if I’d remained mortal. Ardyn in particular loves it, so… we keep an eye open.”

“Have you gotten involved before?” Prompto wonders.

“It’s gotten harder as the world modernises,” Verstael admits, “but we do occasionally see to it my descendants get a little windfall of good luck. We thought you were dead when you ran away.”

“I was in a pretty bad spot, until Noctis found me,” Prompto admits.

“Hmm, I imagine,” Verstael murmurs, glancing over the dancing. “You’re not really his usual type.”

“I guess not,” Prompto concedes.

Noctis seems a little uncomfortable on the grass but, evidently, Ardyn cares less about appearances and more about Noctis’ reactions because he hefts the First up and spins them around. Noctis tries to fight it but he’s laughing by the time Ardyn puts him down.

“My understanding is his Majesty tends to go for caretakers, guardians, protectors… people who’ll baby him.” Verstael hums.

“Looks like Ardyn misses it.” Prompto counters, gently defensive.

“Ardyn misses making him laugh.” Verstael admits, refusing to rankle.

Prompto softens a touch. “Yeah, I can tell.”

“Does his Majesty intend to get more involved?” Verstael asks, pushing gently.

“Yes,” Prompto answers, holding his chin up.

“What an exciting time to be alive then,” Verstael hums.

“Can I introduce you to someone?” Prompto pivots slightly.

It's now or never.

“Hmm?” Verstael glances back to him. “Of course.”

Prompto turns, looking for their secret guest—

As Gilgamesh comes out of the trees several things happen at once.

In a split second Ardyn has turned, whipped around, probably picking up the familiar scent but Noctis lurches to grab him and hold him from moving away.

Ardyn doesn’t wrench Noctis off but he looks about a second away from it.

The music screeches to a halt.

Verstael stiffens the whole way up his spine.

Prompto fumbles but catches his breath to charge into his plan.

“Verstael, this is Gilgamesh.” Prompto announces, trying to sound friendly as the much taller Gilgamesh joins them. “He’s a new friend.”

Verstael is stern, perfectly still but evidently ready to pounce.

Prompto can almost hear the start of Ardyn’s warning snarl.

Verstael says nothing.

“I am glad to meet you,” Gilgamesh greets, offering his hand tentatively.

“I’m certainly surprised to meet you,” Verstael murmurs, refusing to take the hand for now.

“My friends have encouraged me to face the world again,” Gilgamesh keeps his hand offered. “And I thought I should thank you for taking on such a thankless job.”

Verstael snorts, amused despite himself. “Loving an idiot?” He supposes.

“Something like that,” Gilgamesh nods. “I was reigning champion for a while.”

“Well…” Verstael tentatively takes Gilgamesh’s hand. “You’re not missing out on any perks, let me assure you.”

“A shame we could not meet sooner,” Gilgamesh shakes and releases without incident.

“Absolutely.” Verstael murmurs.

“Perhaps we could share some horror stories sometime?” Gilgamesh offers.

“Or a stiff drink, perhaps,” Verstael permits, sounding a little bemused.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Gilgamesh tilts his head.

“Of course,” Verstael spread his hand in offering.

And Gilgamesh is leaving, going to Regis, going to sit and drink and relax without any violence.

Prompto’s still afraid to breathe.

He’s—

No sooner has Prompto glanced back to check then Ardyn is beside them, having cleared a hundred feet in less than a second. Noctis is close behind, coming to Prompto’s side, and they watch as Ardyn pivots Verstael and—

“I’m fine,” Verstael promises as Ardyn fusses.

Ardyn grumbles low in his throat, evidently unimpressed.

“You didn’t tell me Gilgamesh was coming,” he glances to Noctis, frown stern.

“A lot of people have come,” Noctis shrugs innocently. “I didn’t realise you wanted a full guest list.”

Ardyn isn’t glaring but he seems to realise he’s been had. He takes a deep inhale, puffing himself up, but Verstael taps his jaw and draws his attention. Ardyn’s eyes crisscross his face, looking for something, and Verstael must communicate something in those silent expressions because Ardyn visibly slumps.

“How about a drink?” Noctis offers.

“Yes,” Ardyn sighs.

“I could use one,” Verstael grunts, exasperated.

Prompto finally exhales.

No one’s going to fight anyone tonight.

For now?

Looks like a temporary truce is officially in effect.

Noctis beams at Prompto.

Prompto laughs, weak and still shell shocked.

Mission complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to post this, post another UNCONNECTED one shot that is sitting in my drafts, and then once I have more finished I'll either post it as a sequel or add to this story file. Any preferences for what I do?
> 
> COMING UP: He's been a vampire little over a year now when Prompto realises he's caught feelings, bad. But are there rules around loving Noctis? How does he even begin tell Noctis how he feels? Ardyn doesn't make things any easier with a new scheme that sends the boys international.


End file.
